For a second, I only stared at it.
“You had it?”
“Yes.”
“Since when?”
“Since last night.”
“And you didn’t give it to me?”
“You were asleep. Before that, you were shaking hard enough that I was deciding between tea and a doctor.”
My face warmed for an entirely different reason. “You could have told me when I woke.”
“You woke thirty seconds before you tried to fight the floor.”
“I didn’t fight the floor.”
“No. You surrendered early. I admire restraint.”
I gave him a look.
His almost-smile flashed again, dark and brief and dangerous on the edges, but not cruel.
I reached for my phone. The screen lit under my thumb. No service. Then one bar. Then three missed calls from a number I didn’t know.
My chest went tight.
Vadim saw my face. “What is it?”
“I don’t know.” I tapped the missed call log. “Unknown number. Three times.”
His expression emptied of warmth.
The phone rang in my hand.
Unknown number.
My pulse jumped hard enough to make my wrist hurt.
Vadim held out his hand. “Let me see the number.”
“No.”
“Nadia.”
“You just said I’m not a child asking permission.”
“And I’m not a man who lets a knife swing because the blade has your brother’s voice on it.”
That stopped me.
The phone kept ringing.
“Do you think it’s Petya?” I asked.
“I think Gennady is not finished.”
