Exposed Read Online Free PDF

but a mistake.
    Ivan stooped at the overturned tin of roses and carefully righted them. With a quick look around, he curled his hands around the broken and crushed stems and worked his power into the plants. The stems knit back together, though some of the petals remained bruised. But it’d have to do. 
    A truck rumbled by and pulled up next to him—another farmer hauling in the week’s vegetables. The old man ignored him as they worked side by side unloading their trucks.
     
    The sun glared down at Ivan, and Ivan glared back. The cool breezes of last night had been chased away, and it wasn’t long before Ivan had to push his shirtsleeves up to his elbows.
    The sidewalks and road at the southern edge of the town square had been transformed into a makeshift village of canopies and tents for the weekly market. Ivan had hauled the entire contents of the truck bed over to his market stall, sweat prickling at his hairline. And this was just the start of the day. 
    The Sokolov market stall was near the center of the tents, but shoppers edged by him like even looking at the produce or flowers of a Soviet was aiding the enemy. 
    Ivan shifted uneasily on his feet. He knew Kostya had been having trouble moving their goods at the market, but Ivan didn’t know it was this bad. An hour in, and he’d yet to make a single sale. The Sokolovs had never exactly had friends in Independence Falls. People were always afraid to be associated with a family so unlike them, so un-American , but this …. 
    As much as Ivan hated admitting it, they needed this market. His father brought in some money from an account his American handler had set up for the family, but without the farm, without these people buying from them …. The whole ridiculous problem just made Ivan angrier. 
    Kostya, Ivan knew, would stand out front with a big smile, try to entice shoppers with some of their famous hothouse roses. Instead, Ivan leaned against a bin of peppers, the raw wood rough at his back and rasping against his worn-in shirt. He crossed his arms over his chest and silently watched the shoppers. Those few who stopped in did their best not to meet his eyes, and he did his best to ignore them unless they were handing over money. It was easier this way, without having to acknowledge the glances and whispers of the townspeole.
    A couple of women walked by, staring at Ivan. One of them leaned close to another and whispered, loud enough for Ivan to hear: “Spy.”
    Ivan glowered.
    “Mister.”
    He hadn’t noticed the older woman standing next to him until she tapped on his arm. “What?”
    The woman balked at his tone and frowned. “The other one always helps me get a bouquet,” she said.
    The other one? 
    “You mean Kostya. He has a name.” Ivan watched the woman shrug but then thought again of his brother. Kostya would not be happy with Ivan if he chased away an actual customer. He tried for a smile. “I’ll make an arrangement, if you give me a moment.”
    Ivan pulled some cuttings of pale purple lilacs, the last of the season, and arranged them with fuchsia dahlias. He was just pulling out some sprigs of fuzzy, deep purple amaranthus to fill out the bouquet when the woman stopped him.
    “No, that doesn’t look right.”
    Ivan rifled through the tin bucket of rangy flowers and pointed at some frothy Queen Anne’s Lace. 
    The woman frowned. “I don’t like the purple.”
    The Queen Anne’s Lace was white. Ivan bit down on the frown trying to pull his mouth down and sighed. “How about these peonies?” He picked a few stalks to show the woman. She frowned again.
    “No .…”
    “Black-eyed Susans? They’re looking nice.”
    “No …. Maybe some roses instead? I just love those roses.”
    Ivan nearly growled. He dropped the rejected bouquet on its side and started over with yellow roses. He’d barely picked out a handful when the woman stopped him again.
    “Those look awfully bruised.”
    Ivan rounded on her, the frown that had