Page 138 of One For my Enemy

As she stood contemplating her choices, Marya heard the door slam. She recognized the footsteps as they approached and comfortably matched the sound of urgency with a sense of recognition, piecing together what must have happened.

“MASHA,” she heard her sister shout, and Marya closed her eyes, the door to her bedroom swinging open behind her.

“Masha,how could you—”

“Finally,” Marya exhaled, opening her eyes and turning over her shoulder. She let her gaze fix slowly on the fixtures before her; first on her sister Sasha, who was furious and glinting with rage, and then on Lev, who stood at Sasha’s side. “Sashenka,” Marya noted. “Solnyshko. A bit late, don’t you think?”

Sasha stared at her. “Is that actually what you’re going to say to me, Masha?”

“Yes, Sasha, it is. I figured you’d find him sooner or later.” She shrugged. “I suppose this timing is as good as any.”

“Masha,” Sasha said, staring at her. “I told you. Itoldyou my pain. I told you everything, and you said…” She trailed off, knuckles tensed at her side. “You said you’d felt it, too. You said you understood it—was that a lie?”

“Of course not,” Marya said, glancing briefly at Lev, who looked uncertain of his place in the conflict between sisters. “I understand it better than you think, Sasha.”

“Masha, Lev is—” Sasha broke off, her gaze darting quickly to him and then lingering, falling briefly on each of the details, every strand and freckle and line. “He’s not just anyone, he’s—he’smore,and he’s—”

“I know very well what he is to you, Sasha.” Marya glanced back down at her dresses, still indecisive. “Do you like the grey or the red?”

“Masha.” Sasha’s voice was hard and disbelieving. “Are you serious?”

Marya turned over her shoulder. “Is there something specific you want from me, Sashenka?”

“I—” Sasha was gaping at her. “Ofcoursethere is—”

“An apology?” Marya mused, wondering now if she shouldn’t contemplate her navy dress. That one was unremarkable, but at least she wouldn’t chance any spills. “I was never given any either, you know.” She ran her fingers along the lines of the grey sheath. “This world, Sasha, it will never apologize to you. It doesn’t serve either of us well to behave any differently, I expect.”

“When exactly were you going to tell me?” Sasha demanded.

Lev, Marya noted, still hadn’t spoken, though she didn’t bother turning around to wonder at his expression. She could guess it, she imagined. He always bore traces of curiosity, of searching, his fingers tapping at his thigh. He was in constant motion; or, more accurately, the space between motions. The lurch between action and inaction was Lev Fedorov’s sweet spot.

“Tomorrow,” Marya said, and heard Sasha scoff.

“Really,” Sasha retorted drily. “Tomorrow, honestly, you were just going to what, announce that Lev was alive?”

Without hesitation: “Yes.”

Clearly, Sasha had her doubts. Good, Marya thought. I trained you well.

“Masha,” Sasha ground out, sounding pained. “How can you be so…”

Marya waited, schooling her shoulders not to flinch.

“Heartless,”Sasha finally said, and Marya, who was precisely that, was relieved to find the remark relatively acceptable to stomach. “How could you watch me suffer, Masha, when this whole time you knew he wasalive?”

“I had things to finish,” Marya said.

“But if you knew, then Ivan must have known!”

“Ivan works for me, not you,” Marya reminded her plainly, and Sasha cast her gaze askance in fury. “It pained him. It pained me. But some things must be done, Sashenka. You know that.”

“But you had Levworkingfor you,” Sasha spat, venturing another helpless rant, and Marya turned to look at the Lev in question.

“Does that anger you, Solnyshko?” she asked him.

He waited a moment, then gave her a thin smile. “It doesn’t thrill me, Marya.”

“Well,” Marya determined after a moment. “I suppose not everything goes the way we’d like, does it?”

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