That’s enough.
“I asked Yelena to run Andrei’s name,” I say. “The one you used on your papers.”
“And when she ran it, it didn’t stay local,” Ana says. “It moved through hospital records. Clinic logs. Registry links that usually sit in the background.”
I let her continue.
“They didn’t flag the name,” she says. “They flagged the path it took.”
“That’s when the clinic shut down,” I say. “Dr. M’s. And that’s when her number stopped working.”
I exhale. “She crossed something we didn’t see.”
Ana studies me. “The dead drop. The photo. The silence after. That wasn’t random.”
“No,” I say. “It wasn’t.”
She folds her arms. “How do you know it’s still there?”
“If they already had it,” I say, “that meeting would’ve gone differently.”
“How?”
“Sergei wouldn’t have pushed,” I say. “He would’ve closed the subject. Said the records were reviewed and settled. No debate.”
She thinks about that.
“They wouldn’t have asked who was exposed,” I continue. “They wouldn’t have talked about securing anything. The room wouldn’t have reacted.”
“And they did,” she says.
“Yes,” I say. “They’re still arguing about control. That means it hasn’t been pulled.”
“And once they stop arguing?”
“They won’t announce it,” I say. “They’ll send a team and take it in one night.”
She studies me.
“So we don’t have time.”
“No,” I say. “Which means it’s still inside something that looks legitimate. Too tied in to pull without drawing attention.”
Night settles over the apartment fast. The streetlight outside throws a strip of light across the floor. Every car that passes shifts it for a second and then it’s still again.
I check the locks.
Front door first. I press my palm against the handle and push into the frame. Then the back stairwell door. Then the windows, one at a time. Last is the fire escape latch. The metal is cold. I test it twice before stepping back.
Nothing’s changed.
Ana moves in the kitchen, rinsing cups and setting them upside down on a towel. She doesn’t say anything.
Mila’s door stays closed. I pause outside it, listening, then remember she isn’t here.
I stop near the window but don’t stand directly in front of it. The courtyard looks empty. Rain starts against the glass, light at first, then steady.
Ana comes to stand beside me. She doesn’t touch me. Her shoulder is close enough that I feel the heat through her sleeve.
