She nodded and gestured for him to follow her.

"My car is in the parking lot. I've booked a room for you in a hotel downtown. Inexpensive, but clean. I think you'll like it."

They walked side by side, maintaining their distance. The air between them seemed filled with unspoken words. Alexei searched for a way to start a conversation, but everything felt inappropriate or banal.

"You've changed a lot," Dinara said unexpectedly as they approached her car—a small blue Toyota. "You look… sterner."

Alexei smirked.

"And you're still the same," he replied.

It was a lie. She had changed. Become more confident, more reserved. During their student years, Dinara had been open and impulsive, always ready to argue and defend her point of view. Now there was a kind of inner strength and calmness about her that hadn't been there before.

They got into the car, and Dinara confidently steered out of the parking lot. They drove in silence for several minutes. Finally, Alexei couldn't stand it and asked:

"How is your grandfather? Is he still alive?"

"Yes, he's alive," Dinara nodded. "He's 84 now, but still a sturdy old man. Lives in a village near Issyk-Kul. Grows apples and keeps a bee farm."

"I'd like to meet him."

Dinara gave him a quick glance.

"That might be arranged. But first, tell me what you found."

Alexei hesitated. On one hand, he had come specifically for this—to share his discovery and get help. On the other—something made him cautious. Perhaps it was Dinara's strange warning on the phone, or simply the years spent in academia, where one always needed to protect one's research from competitors.

"I'll show you when we're in a secure place," he finally said.

Dinara braked sharply at a traffic light and turned to him.

"You don't trust me?" There was more surprise than offense in her voice.

"It's not that," Alexei rubbed his temple. "It's just… my grandfather warned me to be careful. And you said something similar on the phone."

The light turned green, and Dinara focused on the road again.

"All right," she said after a pause. "First, we'll go to the museum. I have an office where we can talk privately."

They drove the rest of the way in silence. Alexei looked out the window at Bishkek. It was a modern city with new buildings, billboards, and wide avenues. But what distinguished it from other similar cities Alexei had visited was the abundance of greenery and the mountains on the horizon.

Finally, they arrived at the Historical Museum building—an imposing structure of Soviet architecture with a wide marble staircase. Dinara parked in the staff parking area and led Alexei through a side entrance.

"This wing houses the restoration workshops and staff offices," she explained, swiping her card through an electronic lock. "I have a small office on the second floor."

They climbed the stairs and walked down a corridor lined with shelves stacked with cardboard boxes and wooden crates. Dinara stopped at one of the doors and took out her keys.

Her office turned out to be a small but cozy room with a window. Bookshelves filled with academic literature, a desk with a computer, and maps of Central Asia and photographs of archaeological excavations on the walls. In the corner stood a small sofa and a coffee table—evidently a place for relaxation and conversations with colleagues.

"Make yourself comfortable," said Dinara, pointing to the sofa. "Would you like some tea? I have an electric kettle."

"Thank you, I wouldn't mind."

Dinara switched on the kettle and sat opposite Alexei, folding her hands in her lap.