Nika turned, lingering in the hall just outside the entrance to the kitchens.

He crossed his arms with a slight frown, eyes seeking the floor briefly, then casting to the side.

"Comrade, I don't know how much you already know. I don't even know who you are, but I've seen you interact with Sanya over the years, and I know it's not Ministry business."

Nika lifted his gaze to the man's with flawless certitude.

"What I do know is that it's none of my business."

The man's dark-eyed expression was focused, almost keen, belying the casual set of his shoulders and the slight backwards lean of his posture.

"Normally I wouldn't talk out of turn like this, or divulge family secrets to any guy who showed up at the door in mourning black, claiming to be a friend of the Major. But in this circumstance, in your case, I'm going to assume that any man who works in a personal, clandestine capacity for Sanya Isaev probably knows far more damaging facts than I could relate."

Nika's eyes loitered for a moment, for emphasis, then drifted toward the doorway to the kitchen, where Lasha sat having tea and calmly waiting for his father to either stop being mad or stay that way.

"What I can tell you that the papers can't is that Avadya's death was suicide."

He paused.

"And that Lasha was the one who found her."