His face relaxed, and I thought maybe he understood what I was trying to say, even though I hadn’t said it very well.
“I do like to skate,” he said. “Very much.” He paused. “Charlotte Danielovna, would you like to go skating with me sometime?”
“I’d love to,” I said. “But I’ll warn you. I like to skate fast—very, very fast.”
He smiled. “So do I. I think we’d be well matched.”
Before I left, I tried to find Miles to tell him my plans, but both he and Hap had gone out on errands for Zarja. I decided I could talk to them that night, and we’d tell Papa at the same time. I’d take a few days off from the hospital to get the arrangements worked out. When I set off for the hospital a little while later, I was warm with the thought of someday skating with Dmitri. The incident at the café already seemed like it was in the distant past. I’d read that that happened to some people—once you were safe after a horrible event, your mind worked to convince you it was long ago.
As I walked, I saw that the streets had emptied out of almost everyone except soldiers and the police.
On the way there I passed a group of new conscripts, peasants ordered into the city to train to fight. Soldiers with bayonets walked along on either side, “escorting” them to make sure they didn’t run away. The men carried teakettles and small trunks or bags of their possessions. Some were even younger than Peet, and none appeared eager.
I knew from Ivan that in the early days of the war, men and boys had jumped to join up, but that had changed as the war dragged on. Once they were actually at the front, the incompetence of the leaders led to thousands and thousands of deaths. The ones who did survive were faced with shortages of ammunition, food, and even boots. I’d seen many former soldiers hobbling around Petrograd because their toes had been amputated from frostbite. The truth of the situation spread until no one wanted to join up voluntarily any longer.
My mood darkened at the thought, and by the time I got to the hospital, I wished I could have stayed home. I had to explain multiple times, to the nurses and the patients, what had happened to my face. I tried to act as if it were just a random act, especially for the patients.
All of them were worried about their families and concerned that the situation was only going to get worse. I noticed we had nine empty beds, and when I asked Galina, she said some women had insisted on going home, and no new patients had arrived.
The afternoon dragged on, and I got home late again. Hap was the only one in the sitting room.
“Where is everyone?” I asked.
He didn’t look up from his drawing. “Stepan went to bed and Dmitri said he had to go out. Papa went to some dinner. Yermak drove him.”
“And Miles?”
Hap didn’t answer.
I twisted my fingers together, trying to keep my voice even. “Hap, tell me.”
He threw down his pencil. “Don’t yell at me. He wouldn’t let me go with him.”
“Why didn’t you stop him?” I heard myself yelling but I couldn’t stop it.
“What am I supposed to do? Sit on him to keep him here? Or run after him out in the streets?”
I’d just assumed Miles would be more careful once he knew the baron was suspicious. I couldn’t believe I’d been so wrong. I pushed down the panic that was threatening to overwhelm me. “Do you know where he went?”
“No, but whatever he’s doing, I’m sure he is with Peet. Do you want me to go look for him?”
“No, I’ll do it. Stay here.” I didn’t want Hap involved at all.
I grabbed my coat and ran back outside, ignoring Osip’s questions. It was snowing heavily and there were no droshkies, but I managed to flag down a delivery cart after the driver saw me waving money. I told him the address of the theater, thinking Celeste would be in the office there and she might know something.
When I got to the theater, there was a sign on the door that it was closed for the night due to an electrical problem. I went into the apartment building next, but Hugo wasn’t in his usual place. I felt a prickle of unease. The door to his room stood open, so I peeked in. He was lying on the camp cot, struggling to sit up.
“I heard the door.” His voice was wheezy. “Just give me a minute.”
“It’s all right. It’s Charlotte Mason,” I said. “You don’t have to get up. I was just worried when I didn’t see you at the door.”
He got up anyway, adjusting his coat as he shuffled out into the hall. “The Tamms are all out,” he said.
“Are you sure? I think my brother might be here.”
He shook his head. “No, not tonight. They went to see a performance at another theater since they couldn’t open. You should go home.” His eyes shifted to the front door. “Go home,” he repeated. “Go now.”
There was something wrong. Hugo didn’t sound like himself.
“Was my brother here earlier?”
Hugo shook his head again. He still wouldn’t look at me.
Something was definitely wrong. “You know my brother’s health isn’t good. I need to find him and take him home. Are you absolutely sure you haven’t seen him tonight?”
Hugo glanced again at the door and then back at me. “They’re in a different apartment, he and Peet. Number twenty-eight. You should take him home right now. The ones in twenty-eight, they’re not your kind of people.”
I ran up the stairs, dread filling me. Anger, too. Anger at Miles for putting himself in such danger. At the door to the apartment I could hear several voices all talking at once, but I couldn’t make out if one of them was Miles. I had to knock several times until someone pulled open the door.
“Victor, you’re late,” a young man with a scruffy beard said. He took a step back when he realized I wasn’t Victor and then came out in the hall, pulling the door closed behind him. “Who are you?”
“My brother might be here. I need to talk to him.” My words were tumbling over themselves. I almost said Miles’s name, and then I remembered he’d claimed they didn’t use real names. I pointed at my hair. “He looks like me. Red hair.”
He put his hand back on the doorknob. “He left.”
I grabbed hold of the edge of the door. “Wait. Hugo downstairs said he was here.”
“He was here, but he wouldn’t stop coughing.” The man rolled his eyes as if it were Miles’s fault. “He and the boy he was with left a while ago.” He yanked the door free of my hand as he went back into the apartment and shut it in my face.
I hoped they’d gone to the Tamms’ apartment but when I knocked there, no one answered. “Miles? Peet? It’s Charlotte. I need to see you.” Still no answer, and I couldn’t hear anyone inside the apartment. I pounded on the door in frustration. I had no idea where else they might be.
Voices came from the bottom of the stairs.
“Stand aside!” someone ordered, and then I heard boots clomping up the stairs. I caught a glimpse of a policeman with several other men behind him. My heart jumped, but I made myself walk away from the Tamms’ door, down the hallway as if on my way to my own apartment, trying not to panic.
“You, girl! Stop!” A man yelled.