Page 93 of Sexting the Pakhan

Miss Elena appears behind them and says something gentle. Mila turns away first. Nadia looks once more through the glass before following her sister. Then they are gone into the classroom.

I look down at my phone. Unknown Number waits on the screen.

I close the thread.

But I don’t delete it completely. I’m not that brave today.

Karina calls before I can start the car.

I answer and say, “Before you ask, yes, I survived.”

Karina says, “You sound like a Victorian widow.”

I wipe under one eye. “That is my natural state.”

“Come for breakfast,” she says.

“I’m coming.”

“Don’t sit there staring at the building.”

“I’m not staring.”

“Zoya.”

“I’m starting the car,” I say, pressing the button.

“Good. And don’t text him.”

My hand stills on the steering wheel.

Karina doesn’t know about the unknown number. She means Ruslan. She always means Ruslan when she sayshimin that careful voice, even after all these years.

“I don’t have his number,” I say.

Karina is quiet for a second. “I know.”

“I’m fine,” I say.

“You’re not fine. You’re having a big day.”

I breathe out slowly. The phone lies face up on the passenger seat, the messages app closed now, the unknown number hidden again where it belongs.

“I’ll be there in ten,” I say.

Karina says, “Seven.”

“You live twelve minutes away.”

“Step on that gas pedal, babe.”

I laugh despite myself. “That makes no sense.”

“Neither does motherhood. Come here.”

“I’m coming,” I say again.

I end the call and look once more at the school. My daughters are safely inside their classroom with their labeled water bottles and first-day shoes. Karina is waiting for me with breakfast and emotional surveillance. I’m supposed to be thinking aboutwhether Mila will eat the apple slices I packed or trade them for something illegal, like gummy worms.