New York City

Brighton Beach

Same Day

Leo sat on the beach watching the ocean break against the shore. The sunset had contracted to a smudge of red, night closing in on what remained of the day. He rolled a smooth stone from hand to hand, back and forth at regular intervals, as if he were an elaborate timepiece counting down to darkness. One fact was clear to him now – the truth had brought him no comfort. His discoveries did not make Raisa’s death any easier to bear. With grief, there was no resolution, no closure. There was no end to it. He missed her now, today, on this beach, as much as he had ever missed her. He found a future without her as hard to picture as the moments after he’d first heard she was dead. The thought of waking up tomorrow morning without her by his side, after many years of doing exactly that, still made him sick with loneliness. In truth, his investigation had been an elaborate, fifteen-year-long diversion from the fact that he did not know how to live without her. He would never know.

As contradictory as it might seem, he had been trying to keep Raisa alive by exploring the mysteries surrounding her death, to legitimize obsessing about her by framing that obsession as the work of a detective. In an unsolved mystery there was immortality. Looking back he realized that Zoya had always perceived the true nature of his investigation and had always known it would bring him no comfort. She was right. He had found out who’d murdered his wife, he had found out why and how she’d been killed. He could now picture the events of that night in New York, understanding every detail, fully grasping the motivations. Yet what was important was that he finally grasped the futility of trying to keep Raisa alive, understanding that the unsolved mystery had only ever offered the illusion of her company, a man chasing the reflection of a woman he loved.

He would never see Raisa again. He would never sleep beside her, or kiss her. And with that thought, he let the smooth, heavy stone roll out of his hand. Night had come. The red smudge of sunset was gone. The lights of Coney Island were bright.

Hearing footsteps, he turned around. Nara and Zabi were approaching. They arrived by his side, standing over him, unsure what to say. Leo patted the ground beside him.

—Sit with me a while.

Nara sat on one side, Zabi on the other. Leo took Zabi’s hand. She sensed something was wrong even if she didn’t understand what it was.

—Are you leaving us?

Leo nodded.

—I have to go home.

—Isn’t this home?

—It is for you. I must return to Russiai>

—Why?

—My daughters are there. They’re in trouble. They’re being punished instead of me. I can’t allow that to happen.

—Can’t they come here? They can live with us. I don’t mind sharing my room.

—They won’t be allowed to come here.

—I don’t want you to go.

—I don’t want to leave you.

—Can’t you stay until Christmas? I’ve been reading about it at school. I want to celebrate it with you. We can buy a tree and cover it with lights.

—You can still do that with Nara.

—When are you coming back?

Leo didn’t reply.

—You are coming back, aren’t you?

—I don’t think so.

Zabi was crying.

—Have we done something wrong?

Leo took hold of her hand.

—You’re the most amazing girl. You’re going to have a wonderful life here with Nara. I’m sure of that. You can achieve anything you set your mind to. And I’m going to enjoy hearing about your success. But there is something I must do.