Mikhail
We agreed to meet on neutral territory, and the Poconos was mentioned briefly, but the Barinov Estate was chosen instead.
The drive through the woods reminds me too much of driving to Sorokin's castle, but I'm relieved when two large gates open, revealing a red brick mansion. Yes, the sprawling structure is formidable, but the house is trimmed in holiday lights, and the remnants of a snowman guard the front door.
The mansion has a lightness to it, which brings hope. Bright light floods the hall, bouquets decorate every table I pass, and the white marble floors are cleaned to a high gloss. Views of the gardens covered in snow are visible from the window, and a few children play outside, bundled up against the cold.
I'm led by a guard to the furthest wing of the house, where I fi
