Chapter 33
Michael’s heart pounded as he watched the docent speak to Irina. She hadn’t yet turned around, but he knew it was her.
Now, here, he wasn’t sure what he should say or do.
He noticed that Irina’s hands shook. A thick drop of blue paint fell to the ground from the small brush she held and she placed the brush down on a cloth and took a rag to wipe the floor. When she stood again, she said something to the docent who faced Michael, gave him a brief nod, and left the studio.
Irina kept her back to him as she unbuttoned and removed the paint-stained smock she wore, laid it over the back of a chair, then took a moment to smooth her hair with both hands. He watched as she lifted her chin and squared her shoulders. Then, finally, she turned.
Her expression was somber and her large
