“What’s this say, detka?” Vasha had my passport laid out on the perfectly made up bed we’d been staying in for almost fifteen hours straight, and pointed at my middle name. Andrei woke us up ten minutes ago with the promise of porridge and sliced rye bread, which I was excited to try. Figuring we’d be leaving soon, I was hoping to have all my things ready to go, but Vasha had gotten to them first and was curiously pulling my identification out to study it closely.“Alice. My middle name is Alice, little bat.” Most people I met were indifferent to their middle names or just simply didn’t have one, but I loved mine. I smiled at her, watching as she ran her fingers over the glossy photo gingerly.“Beautiful.” She mummered, tossing the document back into my carry on bag and started getting dressed for the day. Choosing a pair of distressed blue jeans and her Siberian tiger sweater, she finger brushed her short bla
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