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Alexei closes his hand around my forearm. My body leans toward his warmth before anger pulls me rigid beneath his fingers.

“Misha’s birth pictures were there.” I stare at the blackened cabinet. “My mother’s letters. My father’s watch.”

The rest stays behind my teeth. My degrees, my diplomas, every note of congratulations I kept. Photographs of my birthdays with Mama and Papa. I can’t explain a lifetime of memories to keepers of a gilded prison.

Abramov lowers the tablet. “The recovery team found a metal watch case in the debris. It may be salvageable.”

The breath leaves me in a rush. “It was my father’s,” I say. “And his father’s before him.”

Alexei keeps one hand around my arm. “What did Gurin tell Dmitri?”

Abramov turns a page in the report. “He told Dmitri more than he told Ilya, but Dmitri thinks most of it is a lie.”

“Who’s Gurin?” I ask, looking between them.

“Pavel Gurin,” Abramov replies. “He worked in hospital security, and Marina told him about the man pretending to be a guard.”

I grip the back of the chair. “What did she see?”

“A man dressed as a security guard opened your office and put a sealed packet of sedatives in your desk drawer,” Abramov says. “Marina stopped him and asked what he was doing, so he grabbed the packet and ran.”

I push the chair back and stand, pulling my arm from Alexei’s hand. “Did Gurin write down her complaint?”

“He did.” Abramov closes the report and rests his hand on it. “Gurin says Semyon Vlasov came to the hospital later with a fake Volkov badge.”

“Belov’s aide,” Alexei says, his face hardening.

Abramov nods. “Gurin says Vlasov used the badge to enter the security office and threatened him.”

“So Gurin didn’t delete Marina’s complaint?” Alexei asks.

“Not according to him. He says Vlasov deleted Marina’s report while he kept watch, then paid Gurin to stay quiet.”

“Gurin is lying about his part in this,” Alexei says.

“Dmitri thinks so too.” Abramov runs a finger beneath the entry. “Gurin signed out, but he didn’t leave. Vlasov entered with the fake badge, and the cameras recorded nothing?”

Alexei leans back in his chair. “What about the woman he was seeing?”

“She’s the daughter of one of the captains Petrov has been watching.”

Alexei’s mouth tightens. “Then his mistress may have connected him to Vlasov.”

I fold my arms across my chest. “Did Gurin know they were going to kill Marina?”

“He says he thought they only wanted to scare her.”

Alexei looks at Abramov. “Do you believe him?”

One of Mrs. Wentworth’s staff enters and begins clearing the dinner dishes. She places fresh tea with lemon near me, then sets a cup of warm milk and honey beside Alexei’s hand.

He looks at the milk as though it has insulted him.

“Gurin has admitted only what Dmitri can already prove,” he says.

“Do we keep him downstairs?” Abramov asks.

“No. Let him go.”