19
Chloe
The rest of the afternoon flies by. As soon as lunch is over, I find the garage—the entrance to it is at the back of the house, just past the laundry room—and verify that my car is indeed there, looking even older and rustier next to my employers’ sleek SUVs and convertibles. Then, since the weather is beautiful—low seventies and sunny—I take Slava for a hike in the forested portion of the estate rather than teaching him in his room. We tromp through a wildflower-filled meadow, climb down to a small lake we find about a half mile to the west, and chase a dozen squirrels into the trees. Well, Slava chases them, giggling maniacally; I just observe him with a smile.
He’s an entirely different boy out here than in the dining room with his family.
As we make our way through the woo
