Chapter 128 Katerina

• THE SNOW HAS TURNED the landscape into a blank canvas. The only color in front of us is the dark swatch of road that swerves like an undulating snake. We've been driving for an hour, and in that time, we've taken turns choosing the music. Sasha's crunchy brass jazz is a severe contrast to the lilting flow of my instrumental orchestras. The songs are as different as us. In spite of that, I easily appreciate the refreshing life the jazz brings, and Sasha smiles fondly as I hum to "The Sea and Sinbad's Ship."
• Sasha grips the steering wheel with one hand, reclining casually in the driver's seat. You'd never guess we were fleeing from the police. He's acting like this is a drive through the country. But when he doesn't notice me looking, I catch the way he churns his jaw ... the furrow that makes his brow heavy.
• His free hand, placed on the middle console, flexes now and then. It's not from the rhythm of the music. Gently, I place my hand over his. Sasha starts, giving me a curious side-eye. I just smile and keep humming.