OLGA NIKOLAEVNA April–May 1918 Tobolsk “The train was rerouted at Omsk,” Officer Matveev explains. He has come all the way back from Ekaterinburg to tell us the news about Papa, Mama, and Maria. “I believe Yakovlev intended to deliver them to Moscow, but your family is now under the jurisdiction of the Ural Regional Soviet.” My mind won’t let me think about what any of this means until I know one thing: “But they’re all right?” “Konechno,” Matveev assures us. “I saw them safely to their new lodgings. They are under house arrest, much as you are here.” Like a puff of wind, some small part of the fear I have been carrying these last two weeks rises off my skin. “Slava Bogu,” Tatiana murmurs as we all cross ourselves, seeping with relief. “Are they expected to remain in Ekaterinburg?” she asks. “It seems that way. The owner of the house, a well-to-do merchant by the name of Ipatiev, has been relocated, and there was a stockade and sentry box outside the house.
