Andrius turned. His eyes found mine. I'll see you he said. My face didn't wrinkle. I didn't utter a sound. But for the first time in months I cried. Tears popped from their dry sockets and sailed down my cheeks in one quick stream. I looked away. The NKVD called the bald man's name. Look at me wispered Andrius moving close. I'll see you he said. Just think about that. Just think about me bringing you your drawings. Picture it because I'll be there.

Was it harder to die, or harder to be the one who survived?

Good men are often more practical than pretty " said Mother. "Andrius just happens to be both.

I looked down at the little pink face in the bundle. A newborn. The child had been alive only minutes but was already considered a criminal by the Soviets.

I stared at the enormous homes, the landscaping and flower beds immaculate. It was as if dollar bills, instead of leaves, hung from the trees.

Tragedy was a big social event, and everyone wanted in on it.

Decisions, they shape our destiny.