“Hi.” Alexei’s voice is gruff. He never loosens his hold on my arm. “I’m taking Grace back to her embassy. I’d suggest you all go home as well.”
“How did you find me?” My voice cracks and I can’t stop shaking even with the heat of Alexei’s hand on my arm.
“Megan called me. She was worried.”
And now I know the answer to my question: Megan is definitely not my friend.
“It was that or call my mom,” she says, defiant.
But Noah just keeps looking at me.
“I can’t believe you’re okay,” he says. A nervous laugh escapes his lips, but it’s too loud on the quiet street, so he pulls his hands down to cover his mouth. It doesn’t hide the look in his eyes, though. Relief. “You’re okay,” he says again. “When you jumped I thought —”
“Say good night, Grace,” Alexei tells me with a tug on my arm.
It takes all my strength to hold my ground and push the now torn and ragged piece of silk in Lila’s direction.
“Here’s your scarf,” I force out.
“Thanks,” Lila says, but she keeps looking at me as if whatever’s wrong with me might be contagious.
Then I tug myself free of Alexei’s grasp and push ahead of him. Overhead, the streetlights flicker and fade. I’m shrouded in shadow as the street curves and I pause, press myself against the fence that surrounds the US embassy. I’m almost home. Or, the building that will pass for home for the foreseeable future. I’m almost safe.
And maybe that’s why I stop. I lean against the stone and the cold comes. My clothes are still wet. My hair has started to dry, and it clings to my face and to my neck. I want a hot shower, to feel the ocean and the sand washing off of me, pouring down my back.
“What were you thinking?” Alexei asks when he comes around the corner and finds me. But before I can answer, my brother’s best friend studies me anew. Alexei places a hand on my arm and I know that I am rocking slightly, back and forth. The others round the corner, and I see the looks on the faces that stare back at me, and I know what they are thinking.
I know because I’ve seen them before. The worried looks and cryptic glances. I can almost hear the whispers that will follow in my wake.
When Alexei speaks, he sounds like Jamie. “What is wrong with you?”
But this time I know better. This time, I lie.
“I’m fine. Just cold. Tired.”
“Grace —”
“Leave me alone, Alexei.” I try to push past him. Adrenaline is coming back in a heady, overwhelming rush. My voice is ice. “I am not your problem.”
“You’re Jamie’s problem. And since Jamie isn’t here …” He lets the words draw out, smiles at me — a look that is part dare, part charm, and I hate him for it. For how easy life must be for him. I wish I were bigger, stronger. Male. I wish I could make people stop worrying about me and my so-called frailness. And if they can’t forget to worry about me, then I wish they would just forget about me completely.
“You don’t get to boss me around just because I’m a girl, you know.”
“No.” He eases closer. Part of me is happy for the warmth, but the rest of me wants to cut that part out, toss it in the sea. “I get to be the boss of you because you’re Jamie’s kid sister and Jamie isn’t here.”
“Well, that’s his problem.”
“No. It’s my problem.” Alexei leans closer. I shake harder. “Do you have any idea where you were? What would have happened if someone — anyone — had seen you in there?”
I do know. I know exactly, but I can’t give him the satisfaction of hearing me say the words. Besides, the lecture is coming no matter what I say. If there’s one thing my life has taught me it’s that the lecture is always coming. That’s why I don’t tell him about the men; I don’t dare mention the scar. It will be like it never happened.
With any luck, even I will eventually forget that it happened. Even if I know it did.
“I paid the neighbors a visit. Sue me.”
“I’m going to do far worse than that,” Alexei snaps. Then he softens. “You are the daughter of a major in the United States Army. You are the granddaughter of the United States’ foremost ambassador to Europe. You cannot break into embassies of hostile governments, Grace. I didn’t realize someone had to spell that out to you, but I’m spelling it out now.”
“Leave me alone, Alexei,” I say, my voice cracking. I hate how badly I’m shaking. I want to pull my treacherous tongue right out of my throat.
“There’s something you’re not telling me,” Alexei says. He could always do that — see through me. I used to think it was Jamie, letting him in on all of my tells. But Alexei has grown up on this curvy street. He knows all the languages. Even mine.
“What is it, Grace? What is it you aren’t telling me?”
I think about the men in the basement, the voices, the ominous drip, drip, dripping of the water. And, again, I shiver. I do not say the things that I have sworn to never say again.
Instead I say good night.
Alexei doesn’t stop me when I pull away and start toward the gate, but I can hear his footsteps behind me, echoing my own.
“You’re following me,” I say.
“Yes, I am.”
“That’s really annoying.”
“I’m sure it probably feels that way, yes.”
I stop. “I can take care of myself.” Overhead, the gas in the streetlamp surges. It grows brighter, harsher. There are no shadows anywhere as he looks at me.
“That’s exactly what worries me.”
He doesn’t say another word as I step toward the gate and the marine who stands there, keeping guard.
No one questions my appearance or the hour — they’re tasked with keeping threats out, not teenage girls in.
I don’t pass a soul as I race up the stairs and into my mother’s room, closing the door firmly behind me.
The window is open. The cold wind blows inside and I rush toward it. I don’t ever want to feel that wind again. But as my hand lands on the frame, I see Rosie standing on the wall, looking at me. Slowly, she raises one hand in something that’s not quite a salute, not quite a wave.
I wave back and close the window, then silently draw the shades.