Page 39 of Crimson

Are the stars out tonight

I don’t know if its cloudy or bright

I only have eyes for you...

“Good god, get this girl on The Voice!” Nikolai said.

Nadia laughed. She knew she wasn’t any kind of incredible singer, but there was no malice in Nikolai’s teasing, especially once he joined in on the chorus with a similar lack of skill.

“You should hear my cousin Violet,” Nadia said. “She actually is amazing at singing.”

“I don’t want to hear anybody but you,” Nikolai said.

He was driving toward the southwest corner of the city. In a moment, Nadia saw that he had taken her to the Moscow State University campus.

“I thought you might like to see where your mother went to school,” Nikolai said.

“I would!” Nadia said excitedly.

Nikolai parked the car, taking a blanket out of the trunk.

“In case we want to sit down somewhere,” he said.

The campus was fairly empty since it was summertime. Nadia was sure the pathways were usually packed with students during the fall and winter months.

She could perfectly imagine a youthful Samara walking this way with her bookbag slung over her shoulder, dressed in the dark, slightly punk-ish clothing Nadia knew her mother had favored from that time, based off the photographs.

In fact, she had seen a photograph of her mother studying, perhaps on this exact lawn. Maybe even under that particular oak tree. There was a bike rack standing not too far away—that might have been the very one where Samara had bumped into Ivan, after the party.

“Let’s sit here for a minute,” Nadia said.

“Sure,” Nikolai said amiably, spreading the blanket out beneath the tree.

Nadia sat down on the blanket, breathing in the scent of the warm grass and the thick leaves overhead. Nikolai sat down beside her.

“So what did your mom say about the university?” he asked.

“Well...” Nadia hesitated. “Do you want me to read it to you?”

“Yes,” Nikolai said at once.

He lay down on the blanket, with his head in Nadia’s lap, looking up at her face and at the full, green foliage overhead.

Nadia took the translated pages out of her bag and started at the beginning.

She read all three entries, all the way through.

She didn’t feel as guilty, sharing them with Nikolai—perhaps because, unlike Aunt Rashel, he didn’t know Samara, so it didn’t feel as much like betraying her secrets.

Nikolai seemed surprisingly interested. He was quiet while she read, not wanting to interrupt her. When she finished, he sat up excitedly and said, “I can see why you’re so interested in the journal—it’s like a mystery!”

“It is,” Nadia agreed, glad he understood.

“Who’s Ivan?” Nikolai wondered aloud. “He could still be here in Moscow, you know.”

“I wondered that too,” Nadia admitted. “I mean, I don’t think I’d look him up or anything. It’s been thirty-five years. He probably got married himself. He might not even remember my mom.”

“I bet he would,” Nikolai said.