Chapter 138 One-hundred & Thirty-eight

• Maria
• "I'm not sure what to call you," I say plaintively. "Zakhar or Dad?" His hands tighten around the wheel as he drives us away from Manhattan and toward a safe house somewhere in North Jersey.
• I glance up at the rearview mirror and watch Mikhail in the back seat. He stares out the window, but he's listening. He's holding his jaw so tight it looks like it might crack into pieces. He's been ignoring me since my outburst, and a wedge of silence is slowly forming between us. I don't like it, but now's not the time to coax him out of it. I'll wait until we have some time alone at the safe house.