(IVANNA)
No one is around when we finally enter his side of the castle. I haven't been here before, and the bare walls catch me by surprise. No drawings that Karlen might have done in school, no famous paintings or posters. It is just a blank surface, like a new house that somebody has just moved into. Hadn't the Sakharov family lived here for a decade?
The stone floor is covered with worn eastern carpets and overhead are the same elegant lights, just like our side. He strides to the end of the hall and throws a door open, not letting go of my hand as we head inside. The door closes and he lifts me up. My legs dangle as he carries me through the sitting room and into the bedroom.
