Max's POV

A few days after I arrived, it was the day of the first game of the first match of the chess tournament.

Florence came in and, shook my shoulder, saying, "Max, get up. We have to go ahead of Freddie and meet the Soviets."

I got up, noting right away the disgust in her tone at the word, Soviets. What was wrong with the Soviets?

I went with Florence to breakfast and while we were there, I asked, "Florence, what's wrong with the Soviets? What makes them so bad—so evil?"

She sighed and said, "I'll explain on the way there, but promise me, you'll behave at the chess game. I can't handle dealing with you losing your temper—not that I'm implying you have a short temper, but if your father is who I think he is—you will have a short temper, like myself—and Freddie's anti-Soviet attitude."

I nodded and then asked, "Who do you think my father is?"

"I think you're my niece," Florence admitted. "I think your father is my older brother, Jeb Vassy. He disappeared in 1956, right before the Soviet attack when Father was taken away, and I had to flee the land that once was Hungary."

I nodded and said, "I'm so sorry, Florence."

She smiled weakly and said, "We'd better leave if we want to get there on time for the pre-game prep."

I grinned and we quickly left the restaurant.