Trafficked by Kim Purcell Page B

dead. She dreaded having to answer more questions, but then Maggie handed the picture to her father, who gazed down, longer than she would have expected, out of politeness, probably.
    Lillian handed her the picture of Katya. “Pretty girl,” she said, then pulled out the picture of Daniil at the Black Sea. He looked sexy wearing his Speedo. On impulse, Hannah had taken it from her desk and slid it in her suitcase, though she regretted it now.
    â€œBoyfriend?” Lillian asked.
    Hannah shook her head. She and Daniil had been together for three years, and he’d told her he wanted to marry her, but when her uncle Vladi disappeared, she had to finish school at the end of eleventh grade instead of twelfth. It was a perfectly acceptable grade to graduate, but all her friends were continuing to twelfth, which would count as a first year of university. She would have liked to do the same thing, but she had to go to the market every day to help her babushka. It was the responsible thing to do, and she planned to take night classes, but Daniil told her he wanted someone more ambitious, like he didn’t know her at all.
    Lillian handed Daniil’s picture to her, and Hannah pressed it facedown on her lap.
    Next, Lillian pulled out Hannah’s keys to her apartment and dangled them in the air. “What are these for?”
    Hannah shrugged. “I forgot I had them.” She knew it was crazy to bring her keys for the apartment, since Babulya was moving to her uncle Petru’s house in a couple of days, but she’d carried them everywhere she went for as long as she could remember.
    â€œWhy didn’t you have them in your purse?” Lillian asked.
    â€œThat’s why I forgot about them,” she stammered.
    Lillian tossed them on the sofa and Hannah snatched them up. The keys were familiar in her hand and calmed her.
    The plane ticket was near the bottom. Hannah held her breath. Lillian pulled out
Anna Karenina
and raised her eyebrows at Hannah. “You’re reading this?”
    â€œIt’s my favorite book,” Hannah said, her voice shaking. The only thing left was the plane ticket. Lillian reached back inside.
    Hannah had to distract her somehow. She waved the book in the air. “Have you read it?”
    â€œOf course I’ve read it,” Lillian muttered, reaching deep in the pocket. Hannah cringed as she pulled out the plane ticket. “Look what I found,” Lillian said to Sergey, raising her eyebrows.
    â€œI forgot about it,” Hannah rushed to explain. “Now I remember it was too big for my purse, so I put it there.”
    â€œIt must have been a small purse.” Lillian gaped at her. “Now I see what Paavo meant about slippery Moldovans. Why didn’t you tell us you had the ticket?”
    â€œHonestly, I thought it was in my purse.” It sounded lame, even to Hannah’s ears.
    â€œWhere are the passport and visa?” Lillian planted her hands on her hips.
    â€œIn my purse. Definitely.” She licked her lips and then remembered that Katya said you should never lick or bite your lips. It looks like you’re lying. Her face flushed and her eyes watered, giving her away again and again. It was so clear she was lying that she wanted to give up, but she stumbled on, like a runner whose legs have cramped up. “You can see I don’t have them.”
    â€œEmpty your pockets.”
    Hannah reached into her pockets and felt the pouch through the thin fabric. If Lillian tried to check in her pockets, she’d feel the pouch, so she turned the empty pockets inside out.
    â€œLet me see your bra,” Lillian said. “Sergey, turn around.”
    â€œWho wants to play with Legos?” he said, walking away and pulling a box of toys from the shelf. Michael ran up and they sat down on the pink and blue rug. Maggie stayed, staring up at Hannah, blinking. Hannah didn’t blame her. It had to be fascinating for an