Thirty-Five

Maria

Slowly, I notice a man alone across the room, seemingly engrossed in a display of armor in a tall case. But there's something off about him. Each time I glance away from a display, he's there in my periphery. Not close but visible, sending the occasional furtive glance in our direction. He never lingers too long in one spot or gets too close to the other visitors.

"Who is he?" I ask, my pulse quickening. "Are we in trouble?"

Mikhail hesitates, then leans in close so only I can hear. "Lanzzare."

"Who?" I ask in confusion. I've never heard of a name like that.

"I'll tell you later."

"Why is he watching us?" I ask, trying to keep my voice low and steady. "Will he hurt us?"

"He won't dare," Mikhail reassures me. "Not here. But stay close, Maria."

Mikhail touches his phone, and in a few minutes, our driver, Anton, appears. He lets the man see him. No words are exchanged, but the man gives a curt nod before he walks away. That's when I realize he's not alone.

Another man—one of Mikhai