Chapter 23.

NORA CARUSO The dining room smelled of roasted lamb, I stood in the shadowed archway for a moment, my hand resting on the wood of the doorframe, watching them. My parents sat on one side, looking polished and immaculate. My mother was adjusting her diamond bracelet, my father was nursing a glass of scotch, his leg bouncing nervously beneath the table. And at the head of the table Nikolai sat, he looked effortless. He was leaning back in his chair, one arm draped over the back, watching my parents. He wore a black dress shirt, the top buttons undone, revealing the hard column of his throat. I smoothed my dress and stepped into the light. "Nora," my mother said, she stood, rustling in her gown, and hurried over to me. She stopped a foot away, her hands fluttering toward me but not quite touching. "Oh, look at you." She didn't look at my eyes. She looked at the white bandage wrapped around my left hand, then at my face, "Mother," I said, my voice dry. "We were so worried," she said, leani