Page 50 of Hunt Me, Daddy
At eight, Sergei came to my door without knocking because my brothers had never learned boundaries and were probably too old to start.
“You look worse than yesterday,” he said.
“Good morning to you as well.”
He glanced at the whiteboard. I considered stepping in front of it, but I didn’t move fast enough. His gaze moved over the white board, pausing on the line that read DO NOT MENTION BROTHER in capital letters. His expression did not change and that was not comforting.
“Conference?” he asked.
“Yes.”
“You hate conferences.”
“I hate most things.”
“No. You particularly hate conferences.”
“I’m multidimensional.”
“This looks like a bad idea.”
I removed my glasses and rubbed the bridge of my nose. “Was there a reason you came here beyond annoying me?”
“I was looking for you.”
“Heartwarming.”
“Maxim wants an update on Orlov.”
“Tell Maxim that Orlov remains misdirected.”
“I did.”
“And?”
“He wants to hear it from the brother who keeps lying by omission.”
I put my glasses back on. “Did he use that phrase?”
“No. I improved it though.”
“Creative liberties from Sergei. How terrifying.”
Sergei’s eyes returned to the board. “Is she attending this?”
I did not answer. He looked at me and the silence stretched between us.
Finally, I said, “Yes.”
“Does she know you arranged it?”
“No.”
“Will she?”
“Eventually.”
“That word is doing too much work.”
