About
"Listen, rooskaya. I don't want to hurt you... And you do
not want to be me. Do you really understand what it means to be a spy, little one? I was a dancer, did you know that? The ballet... I spent my entire childhood straining to see the world on tiptoe; aching to be good enough, graceful enough, strong enough to dance. And I did, Yelena Belova, I did dance. On point, in pink satin shoes, my arms stretching open to the world...Then Alexi got tangled in it- my dear husband- in the web. Next, my career, my country... You learn to be lost all the time, so as to never to able to direct anyone to your employers. Or your heart. Or your vulnerabilities. And for what, rooskaya? To play pawn to anyone of a dozen governments that will shoot you in the back just for becoming the dispassionate create they require? You push on and on, never knowing what will suddenly make you aware of the cold. Something as devastating as the death of a friend? Or something as subtle as a birthday ignored? Why be the Widow, rooskaya, when you can be Yelena?"
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