“What do you suggest?”
“Kira needs to be somewhere secure. Somewhere Bogdan can’t reach her.” He glances at Pyotr. “Moscow. With family.”
I tighten my arms instinctively around my daughter, pulling her closer to my chest. “You want me to send her away?”
“It’s the only way to ensure she’s safe.” Alexei’s voice softens slightly. “Mila and my daughter are at the family compound. It’s the most secure location we have. Kira would be protectedaround the clock by people who would die before they let anyone touch her.”
“I can’t just—” My voice breaks, and I have to swallow hard before continuing. “She’s five years old. She doesn’t understand any of this.”
“Which is why she needs to be somewhere safe while you help us dismantle the man who’s been terrorizing you both. I’ll escort her. She’ll be on a private train car with me and two of my best men. No one will get near her.”
I look at Pyotr, desperate for him to tell me there’s another way that I haven’t considered. But his face tells me what I already know.
“He’s right,” sympathy saturates Pyotr’s voice. “Bogdan will panic when he realizes what’s happening. Kira can’t be here when that happens. And honestly, neither can you, but I know better than to suggest you leave.”
Kira squirms in my arms. “Mama? Am I going somewhere?”
I close my eyes and breathe through the pain threatening to split my chest open. Every instinct screams at me to hold onto my daughter and never let go. But keeping her close means keeping her in danger, and I’ve already put her through too much.
I bend down and set her on her feet so I can look at her face. The beautiful, innocent face that shouldn’t know anything about men with guns and threats, and mothers who cry in bathrooms when they think no one can hear.
“Remember how we talked about Aunt Mila and Uncle Alexei’s house in Moscow? With the big garden and all the toys?”
Kira nods, still clutching her dinosaur.
“You’re going to go stay there for a little while. Just until Mama finishes some important work.”
Her lower lip trembles. “I don’t want to go without you.”
“I know, baby. I know.” I pull her into my arms and hold her tightly, memorizing the smell of her shampoo and the way her fingers curl into my shirt. “But you’re going to be so brave, aren’t you? My brave little girl.”
“Will Pyotr come?”
I look up at Pyotr, and he crouches beside us. His presence at my side steadies something inside me.
“Not this time, malyshka. I need to stay here and help your mama.” He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a coin, worn smooth with age. The markings are barely visible. “But I want you to take this with you. It’s a special spy coin. Do you know what spies do?”
Kira shakes her head, her eyes widen with curiosity despite her fear.
“Spies have secret missions. And this coin is part of our secret mission together.” He places it into her palm and closes her fingers around it. “Every night before you go to sleep, I want you to hold this coin and think about me and your mama. And every night, we’ll be thinking about you, too. That way, even though we’re far apart, we’re still connected. Can you do that?”
She examines the coin with serious concentration, turning it over in her small hands. “What if I get scared?”
“Then you squeeze the coin three times.” He demonstrates, folding her fingers around it. “One, two, three. And then you say, ‘Pyotr is coming.’ Because no matter where I am or what’shappening, if you’re scared, I will find a way to get to you. That’s my promise.”
“Pinky promise?”
He hooks his little finger around hers, their hands looking absurdly different in size. “Pinky promise.”
Kira clutches the coin to her chest like it’s the most precious thing she’s ever owned. “Okay. I’ll be a spy.”
I have to look away, so she won’t see the tears streaming down my face. Pyotr’s hand finds my shoulder and squeezes gently.
The next hour is filled with activity. I call Mila, who answers on the second ring, and her voice is reassuring as she tells me that Kira will be welcomed and protected and spoiled rotten by Sofia, who’s been asking for a playmate for months. I pack Kira’s bag with her favorite clothes, her dinosaur collection, the worn copy of the bunny book she can’t sleep without, and the sparkly hair clips she picked out at the secondhand store last month. I brush her hair and braid it the way she likes, taking extra care with each section, drawing out these last few minutes together.
Alexei makes phone calls in the corner, arranging security details and travel logistics. Pyotr keeps Kira occupied with a card game I don’t recognize, teaching her the rules with patience that makes my heart ache.
And then, it’s time to go.
