He looked from me to Galina then back again, his fearful grimace dissolving into an expression of blank confusion. “But...”

“Let me help you.”

He flinched when I touched him, but after a brief hesitation, allowed me to guide him to his feet. His gaze darted toward Galina once more, and his hand tightened around mine.

I eased Mikhail onto the straw-stuffed mattress, supporting his back. Galina stepped away, her face contorted in such pain that I was afraid her fragile skin might tear. I wanted so badly to tell her that Mikhail was hurt and disoriented, that he didn’t know what he was saying. But by the time I opened my mouth to speak, she had already fled from the room.

“I’ll bring you something to eat and drink,” I said hurriedly to Mikhail, backing away. “Just don’t move any more.”

“Who are you?” Pain and confusion fogged his silver eyes. “Where am I?”

“I’m Toma, and this is my home. Don’t worry, nobody’s going to harm you here, so please don’t be afraid.”

He didn’t say anything, just stared at me with his teeth bared like a wolf readying to bite.

I left the room, shutting the door and locking it behind me. He was too hurt to be allowed to wander, and I couldn’t risk him coming across Mama or Papa and attacking them in a panic.

“Galina,” I called softly, going down the hall. “Are you still here?”

I found her in the kitchen, sorting pebbles into piles. The silk bag she carried in her pocket lay empty, her found treasures scattered over the floor. I stepped over a lead soldier, beads, old coins, spent bullets, and amulets.

“Are you okay?”

Galina shook her head, fumbling with her prizes. White stones, green stones, black.

“He shouldn’t be here,” she mumbled.

“Mikhail’s hurt, Galechka,” I said gently, sitting down beside her. I picked a tin horse with a missing leg from among her treasures, turning it around in my hands. “He needs our help. He didn’t mean what he said.”

“You don’t understand,” she said as I placed my hand over her own, stroking the rags and ribbons entwined around her palm. Whenever I came across fabric in the abandoned houses, whether it be dowry lace or an altar rushnyk embroidered with the signs of the Three Sisters, she was the first to claim it. Strannik goldwork was her favorite, black silk or cotton covered in an interlacing of metallic thread.

“He’s just scared,” I murmured gently. “Once he realizes how wonderful you are, he’ll love you.”

“He thinks I’m a monster.” Her voice became choked.

“That’s nonsense.”

Galina lifted her head and regarded me with void eyes. Concealed by shrunken lids until they were just slits, the empty sockets unsettled me in a way they never had before. It was like staring into the night. “He’s right.”

She pushed to her feet and raced toward the door.

“Galechka, wait.” As I stood, the door slammed shut behind her. “Don’t go!”