Sarina had extracted a promise from Zachary to be at home on the day and time they chose for their intervention. Zachary was there, completely unaware of what he was facing, and to everyone’s surprise he sat, head down, and listened to the indictments made against him from one after the other of those gathered. They spoke of his irresponsibility, his crudeness, especially the manner in which he spoke to his wife and Hannah without consideration of their feelings. His indifference to his own family. His disrespect for his father. He did not argue, defend himself, or make excuses. Suddenly, his shoulders began to shake and, kneeling before Sarina, he laid his head on her lap and sobbed.

Denny motioned them all to be quiet, to wait, and they sat there, embarrassed, uncertain what to do.

Finally Zachary quieted, raised his head, and addressed his father. “When Mom died, I couldn’t seem to work through my grief, so I walked away. When I brought Sarina here that first time, I thought maybe we could make our home in the States. But Mom was everywhere, and my sense of loss was overwhelming. Rather than talk to you about how I felt, I did what I’ve done so often in my life. I ran.”

“I should have been more sensitive, should have known something serious was troubling you. I should have known. I should have helped you,” Sarina said.

“For heaven’s sake, don’t blame yourself. How could you help me if I wouldn’t talk, if I shut you out? And now, I’ve brought you here, so far from your home, and my behavior has been unforgivable: the things I said, how I said them, and disappearing, going off gambling, and squandering our money. Can you ever forgive me?”

Sarina stroked her husband’s dark, thick hair. “There is nothing to forgive. It was my father who sent us away, remember. I thank the gods that you brought me to your people.” Her eyes swept the room, and she smiled. “You have been so good to me, all of you, better even than my own family.”

She lowered her voice and addressed her husband. “We could stay here, live here. They want us, Zachary. They love us and Sarah.”

“I know,” he said. “I know.” But he made no commitment. And Hannah felt her initial distrust of Zachary spring to life.

What was there to say or do? Silently, slowly, one after the other, they stood and left the room, allowing the couple privacy.

“Will this last, I wonder?” Hannah asked when she and Grace and Amelia were alone.

“Hard to tell. We have to give it time,” Grace said. “How does one change? How does one make even a strong motivation last?”

“It seemed too fast, too contrived.” Amelia had expressed what they were all feeling. “There’s something about Zachary I don’t trust or like.”