– Leave him. Live with me.

She’d been convinced he’d never find the courage to act upon what could only ever be a childish daydream-the two of them running off together. She’d been wrong.

Remarkably, he’d chosen her husband’s church to cross the line from private fantasy into open proposition: the frescoes of disciples, demons, prophets, and angels judged their illicit moves from the shadowy alcoves. Maxim was risking everything he’d trained for, facing certain disgrace and exile from the religious community with no hope of redemption. His earnest, heartfelt plea was so misjudged and absurd that she couldn’t help but react in the worst possible way. She uttered a short, surprised laugh.

Before he had time to reply the heavy oak door slammed shut. Startled, Anisya turned to see her husband-Lazar-hurrying toward them with such urgency that she could only presume that he’d misconstrued the scene as evidence of her infidelity. She pulled away from Maxim, a sudden movement that only compounded the impression of guilt. But as he drew closer she realized that Lazar, her husband of ten years, was preoccupied with something else. Breathless, he took hold of her hands, hands which only seconds ago had been held by Maxim:

– I was picked out of the crowd. An agent questioned me.

He spoke rapidly, the words tumbling out, their importance brushing aside Maxim’s proposal. She asked:

– Were you followed?

He nodded:

– I hid in Natasha Niurina’s apartment.

– What happened?

– He remained outside. I was forced to leave through the back.