Pavel said something in Russian, short and brief, and the woman looked mollified. Feliks said something to Pavel. Pavel didn’t translate. There was one gift left in the tote—perfume—and I gave it to Galina. She took a deep breath and nodded her thanks, but took a step back like I might snatch it from her hands. I also gave her the fake Louis Vuitton tote and she nodded, the ice slightly melted. Pavel said more, tried to laugh very softly. She didn’t laugh, but she kept the gifts.

I nodded to her, just saying “I’m so sorry” again and again, and she nodded to Kyle and Danielle.

We got into the car.

The doors all slammed, and then there was just a stunned silence.

“What the actual hell were you thinking?” Kyle said, his voice like a blade.

“I thought it was the woman from the London airport,” I said, my voice thin and broken. What had I done? Kyle gave off this cough of frustration, of anger, of dismay.

“One step forward, a dozen steps back,” Danielle said. “They aren’t going to remember you singing to that boy. They’re going to remember you charging across a parking lot and grabbing an employee’s arm.”

“It will be fine,” Kyle said. “We can bribe our way out of this.”

I made a noise in my throat.

“No, you can’t. Maria and the administrator write a report on today and send it to the judge. There’s not a lot of sympathy in this country for anything that looks like mental or emotional instability among adoptive parents. They don’t have to say yes to you when they can say yes to the next family, who doesn’t accost people.”

“Stop the car,” I said. Pavel murmured, and Feliks stopped. I got out. I marched back up the road to the Volkov Infants Home. I walked in. I saw Galina talking with the guard. I approached her and she looked at me. I say, “Mne ochen zhal.” I had heard Kyle practicing it and telling me what the phrases meant, trying to interest me. “I’m really sorry.” He thought that would be a useful phrase for him. Yet I was the one who needed it.

She saw in my face the whole awful mix of sorrow, worry, and fear, and she offered a diplomatic smile and nod.

I said it again. “Is OK,” Galina said.