I was walking through the Upper East Side, enjoying the shadows of the evening city. A woman called out, "Vasilisa!" I know the name, so I glanced over my shoulder. She looked straight at me, and called again, "Vasilisa!"
No, I told her, my name is Kat.
She looked at me, then said, in Russian, "You could have been her."
No, no thank you, Grandmother. I know too well how that story ends.