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I glare at him, then take one bite. The food is dry in my mouth, so I drink some tea as I turn another page.

Something catches my eye. A malpractice notice is attached to my personnel file.

“This is false.” I pull it free.

Alexei moves carefully around the table, then lowers himself into the chair beside me. He leans over my shoulder and braces one hand beside the file. “What does it say?”

“That I failed to order a repeat scan after abdominal trauma, and the patient died.” I check the date. “I wasn’t even in Moscow. I was at a surgical conference in Kazan.” I pick up an apple slice from the plate. Mrs. Wentworth has drizzled honey over it.

“Can you prove it?”

“Yes.” I point to the patient number. “This chart belongs to a man who survived and left the hospital six days later. Someone copied the case, changed the result, and put my name on it.”

“They copied the patient number, then changed the name and outcome.” Alexei turns the page. “Here.”

A compensation order is attached behind it.

“This was filed months before you were shot.”

“They claimed the hospital had paid a substantial settlement after the patient’s death, then held you responsible for the loss.” He taps the amount. “Your father’s debt created the first claim. This false settlement increased the amount and made it look as though you might run before paying.”

“Who are they?” I ask, pushing the apple aside.

“Men who only need the papers to look real until they get you out.” He places the malpractice notice beside the transfer code.

A knock sounds at the library doors, and Irina enters carrying a small medical case.

“Checkup.” She sets it beside Alexei’s elbow.

He doesn’t look up. “Later.”

“Now.” Irina opens the case and removes a small packet of tablets. “Dr. Yelena said you’re not allowed to miss another dose.”

Alexei reaches for the freight map.

I catch his wrist and turn it palm up. “Stay still.”

His eyes drop to my hand. “You do enjoy this.”

“More than I should.”

Irina checks his temperature, then looks at me. “No fever. His dressing is dry.”

“I noticed.” I release his wrist.

Alexei raises an eyebrow. “You see? I’m under constant medical protection.” He reaches for his espresso.

Irina takes the cup first and replaces it with water. “Not when your pulse is already high.”

He watches her leave, then looks at me. “The women in this house are forming a government.”

“They’ll overthrow you soon.” I slide the water closer. “Swallow your tablets.”

He does.

The library doors open again, and Abramov steps inside with a tablet beneath one arm and a thin earpiece wire disappearing under his collar. The sharp lines of his dark coat make him look even more severe.

“I have the preliminary forensic report.” He approaches the table.