I hear the door unlock. I step away from the door just before it swings open. But it’s not Uri standing on the other side; it’s his sour-faced older brother. They have the same bone structure, but whereas Uri’s is gaunt and sharp, Nikolai’s is blurred by stubble and more flesh around the jowls. His eyes burn a darker shade of blue.
“What do you need to say?”
I could tell him. I should tell him. But I need to see Uri. I don’t know his brother—I’m not sure I even like his brother—and I’m definitely not gonna trust him with this information.
“I’ll only speak to Uri.”
“How convenient,” he drawls in a scathing, deadpan voice that matches his expression.
“Please. This could potentially help get Polly back.”
His eyes narrow. Is that hope I see flickering across his face? Before I can figure
