At last, with a shuddering sigh, Ben pulled away, and looked at his brother, still not able to believe what he was seeing.

“You’re here.” He reached up and touched Sam’s scar. “Does it hurt?”

Sam smiled, a tentative grimace, rediscovering forgotten muscles. “Not anymore.”

“I waited and waited,” said Ben. “What happened?”

“I’m … not sure,” croaked Sam.

He looked toward the house, where Lotti with Federico, Clara, the Reverend Mother and a number of sisters had gathered by the back door, witnessing their reunion from afar.

“Come,” he said, getting to his feet.

“Must we?” asked Ben regretfully.

“Yes,” said Sam. “Not for long. But these women have been good to me, and I think … I think the Reverend Mother might help.”

When she saw the brothers begin to walk toward the house, Mother Julienne sent all the other sisters away. As Sam and Ben drew close, she held out her hands in a gesture of welcome.

“So, Moses,” she said. “Or should I call you Samuel? You have returned.”

“I have.” Sam’s voice quavered. “And I owe you and my brother an explanation. Especially my brother.”

The Reverend Mother nodded and then, in her crisp way, offered her parlor as a calm, private place to talk.

Ben pulled on his brother’s sleeve.

“Can Lotti and Clara come too?”

“It’s not necessary,” said Clara, seeing how tired Sam looked. “You’ll be wanting privacy.”

“But I want to hear,” Lotti hissed at her. “Clara! After all we’ve done to find him!”

“Anything Ben wants is fine with me,” said Sam.

In the parlor, under the Reverend Mother’s steely eye, the dogs settled angelically on the hearthrug. Lotti sat beside them and pulled Federico into her lap. Mother Julienne, Clara and Sam sat on chairs. Ben sat on the floor close to his brother, as if fearful that at any moment he might disappear again.

In a halting, unfamiliar voice, Sam began to piece together what he could remember of his story.

“Nathan … he shouldn’t have come, but it was so good to see him … He looked after me, we went for walks, little ones, a bit longer every day, him fussing … me leaning on him, him leaning on his stick … it was funny! And then on the day it happened, on the day the planes came …”

Sam paused. The door opened and Sister Monique appeared bearing a tea tray.

“Just in time,” said the Reverend Mother crisply.

After tea had been poured and cups distributed, Sam resumed.

“On the day the planes came, we walked as far as the river, and I … oh, it sounds so trivial now … The weather was warm, and I took off my boots because I wanted to paddle and Nathan said … oh God, I wish I hadn’t done it … Nathan said, you’ll be cold, I’ll go and fetch a blanket …”

They all steeled themselves, guessing what was coming next.