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I entered the office, GM's head was bent, and I could see that she was pouring over a letter.   GM had been receiving a lot of letters lately—letters that she wouldn't talk about, but would hastily tuck away.   I could see an envelope on the desk beside her.   It had a number of colorful stamps on it—as if it had been mailed from overseas.   I wondered—could GM be receiving letters from Russia?
                "GM?" I said quietly.
                GM turned in her chair, clearly startled.   With admirable economy of movement, she swept her letter back into its envelope, and deposited the envelope into a drawer.
                "Oh, Katie!   I didn't hear you come in.   How was your first time ice skating?"
                "It was good," I said.   "I didn't break anything, and I actually made it all the way around the rink several times."   I paused.   "Did you receive a letter from Galina?"
                GM stood up.   "Letter?"
                "Yes," I said.   "You had a letter in your hand when I came in, and the stamps seemed to be foreign.   I was wondering if maybe you'd heard from Galina.   I know you've been in contact with her."
                Galina Golovnin had been a friend of my mother's.   Although she was the same age as my mother, she had been a teacher of sorts to her—helping my mother to develop and hone her powers as the Little Sun.   When I had encountered her in Russia, she had helped me too.   Galina's life was deeply steeped in the supernatural, something GM had resented bitterly.   But since our recent trip to Russia, GM's attitude toward Galina had relaxed a bit.   She was no longer determined to banish Galina to the past and pretend that she had never existed.
                "Galina?" GM said.   "Oh, no.   No.   I have not heard from her lately."
                I waited expectantly.
                GM, who was always so confident and self-possessed, suddenly seemed very unsure of herself.   She wrapped her fingers around the silver cross she always wore and began to move the charm up and down on its chain in an agitated fashion.   She looked around the room.   Then she looked back at me.
                "Enough about the letter.   Forget about the letter.   Solnyshko, I have something to tell you—to ask you, rather."
                'Solnyshko' was a Russian term of endearment that GM often used for me—one that lots of people used.   Oddly enough the word literally meant 'little sun.'   GM had been using it for me for as long as I could remember.   She had no idea how apt it really was.
                I took a deep breath.   "I have something to tell you, too."
                "Excellent.   Then we have news to share with one another.   Let's go in the kitchen, Solnyshko.   Are you hungry?"
                "No, I'm not hungry," I said, as GM shepherded me out of her office.
                "Some tea, then," GM said.   "It is always good to have tea when one talks."
                I wasn't really keen on the idea of having tea.   I'd lost my taste for tea and for hot drinks in general after I'd discovered that my mother had been poisoned by tea laced with vampire blood.   I had been tricked into drinking some of the stuff myself, and the memory of it was an unpleasant one.   But if drinking some tea would make GM happy, then I would go along with it.
                In the kitchen, GM waved me to a seat, and she put the kettle on.   Then she sat down across from me and gave me a level gaze.   We sat like that for several moments, and I began to shift uncomfortably under her steady stare.
                "GM, let's—"
                "Not just yet, Solnyshko.   Wait for the tea."
                "Would you mind looking in another direction for a few moments, then?" I asked.