“But how?” she gasped. “Mother, how do you know?” When Elena simply stared her, her expression completely unreadable, Katia forgot to play a role. She forgot to breathe. She was a child again, vulnerable and scared and stripped of all her protective barriers. “Mother?” Elena’s expression never changed, but deep lines of worry cradled her mouth. She cut a quick glance at the servant dusting the mantel and then rose abruptly. “Come, darling, I want to show you the decorations I’ve added to the backyard for this evening’s festivities.” Glad to perform such a simple act, Katia followed her mother onto the outdoor deck. She had no idea what to say or do next. It was already too late to be wary. Her mother knew she was a mole for the British. Silence was her only defense now. Once outside, Elena pulled Katia close, easing her into the kind of motherly hug she hadn’t given her daughter since she was a child. Katia resisted the urge to cling.
