The woman nodded and squeezed Maria’s hand quickly, in a gesture of solidarity. “He was executed in November and now my only son has disappeared and they won’t tell me where he is.”

Maria sat on the grass beside her. “Was he taken by the NKVD?” she asked.

“I think so, but they will not give me any information. It’s been two weeks and nothing.”

Maria felt relieved that at least her children were safe. This woman’s suffering was worse than hers. She wondered if she might be able to get Yuri to help, since he wanted a favor from her.

“I may have a contact who can make inquiries,” she said. “Don’t get your hopes up, but I will see what I can find out.” She noticed an expression of suspicion flit across the woman’s face. “Of course, there’s no reason why you should trust me, but what harm can it do to give me your son’s name? I will either find out where he is or I won’t. It surely can’t make things any worse.”

The woman considered this for a moment, then told Maria her son’s name and the address from which he had been taken.

“I’ll return here at this time next week and let you know if I have discovered anything,” Maria promised.

* * *

She had agreed to meet Yuri in the same quiet side road on her way home from work a couple of days hence. As she climbed into the van, she felt a frisson of terror. How many people had been beaten senseless or even killed in the back? What had Peter been thinking as he was driven away in such a van?

“Is there any news?” Yuri asked quickly.

Maria shook her head. “Not yet, but I have made inquiries. You must be patient.”

He sighed deeply. “She does not have any money or coupons with her. How can she be feeding our son? I hope . . .” He bit his lip and did not finish the sentence.

“Annushka seemed a good mother. I’m sure your son is safe.”

He nodded. “Will you meet me again in a few days? Say Monday? In case there is any word?”

“All right,” Maria agreed, steeling herself for what she would ask next. “But I need a favor from you too. Can you find out what is happening to this boy, who has been arrested by the NKVD?” She held out a piece of paper with the name and address written on it. “His mother is distraught because no one will tell her anything. You for one must understand what that feels like.”

She caught his eye. He wasn’t pleased, but he took the piece of paper, looked at it quickly, and put it in his top pocket.

“I hope when I see you next that we will both have news,” he said curtly.