She follows me out of the office and into the elevator. Then her heels are clicking on the concrete again in that uneven rhythm. I've already identified the three fastest routes out of the city at this time of night and ranked them by exposure risk. I've already thought through where I'll put her in the house, which I keep staffed but not crowded, and I've already drafted the outline of the conversation we'll need to have tomorrow when she's had sleep and food and a few hours of distance from tonight.
What I haven't thought through, and what I don't think through now as I hold the back exit open and she walks past me, and I smell the soap she used from my bathroom cabinet mixed with something that is still faintly, inconveniently peach…is any of the rest of it.
The car is waiting at the curb. Gregor, my driver, doesn't turn around. My coat is on the back seat, charcoal wool, entirely too large for her. She gets in, and I slide in beside her, handing her the coat which she pulls over her knees like a blanket.
The city starts to move past the windows in a blur of streetlights and rain.
She doesn't speak for several minutes.
Then, quietly, she turns to me and asks: "Will Sasha be safe?"
I consider the question. "For now. She'll be questioned when Vinzlee's people realise he's missing. But she won't be harmed."
"You can't know that."
"I can," I say. "Because she is his family, and family means something in this world."
The streetlights move across her face in slow intervals, light and shadow, light and shadow.
She turns back to the window.
The city thins. The streets widen. The lights begin to space out further and further apart. The estate road comes up after twenty minutes. Gregor takes the turn onto the long drive and the trees close in on both sides before the main house appears.
We drive past slowly, heading down the hill towards my house. It’s the furthest building from the main house. I chose it for its distance from the main house, but also for its view of the lake.
It's a large house on an intimidating property. I notice it now through the lens of her looking at it, and hope it isn’t too intimidating.
“You’ll be safe here. No one can get within five miles of the property without us knowing.”
She glances at me. "Is that reassurance?"
"It's information."
Something moves in her face again. That steady working out of what my words truly mean.
Gregor brings the car to a stop. I get out first and come around to her side to open the door. She looks up at me for a momentbefore she takes my hand to step out. Her fingers are very cold and very small in mine, and she lets go the moment she's upright.
I lead her up the steps.
Gregor takes the car. The front door opens before I reach it. Pavlina, who manages the house, nods a greeting.
"Please prepare the guest room," I say to her. "And something warm but simple to eat."
She nods and disappears.
I turn to Mia. She's standing in the entrance hall looking up at the ceiling with an expression that is very far away.
"There's a room for you at the top of the stairs," I say. "First door on the left. Pavlina will bring you food, and I’ll see if any of my sisters-in-law have clothes that you can borrow."
She looks down from the ceiling, then hands me my coat.
"You're not going to tell me anything else tonight, are you?" she asks.
"No," I say. "Tonight, you need to recover."
She holds my gaze for a moment, and I get the distinct impression she's deciding whether to push it, deciding whether she has the energy, finding the answer is no.
"Fine," she says. “I am grateful for this, but please don’t keep me in the dark. Transparency is the only way I’ll be able to trust you.”
