Maria
"I need to talk to my father."
"That's not a good idea," Lara says, her brow furrowing in concern.
I grip her hands. "I need to know the truth from him," I reply. "Mikhail tells me his real name is Zakhar Budanov. There's a photograph in his desk. I ... I deserve to know!"
Larissa's face pales as she pulls her hands out of my grip. Her hands clutch the sheets as if anchoring her to the moment.
"Please, Lara," I plead. "I need to hear it from him."
Larissa nods slowly and releases the bedsheets from her grasp. "Yes," she says quietly, her gaze distant. "You do."
I stare at her, perplexed, but her face is unreadable. She knows too much but doesn't want me to figure it out. I take a deep breath, wondering if I should push her, but I decide against it. Whatever Larissa knows, it w
