“There wasn’t anything I could do,” I said, wiping my hands with a paper towel. Traces of grease still stuck underneath my fingernails. I walked past her to the bedroom, where I took off my uniform. The children were asleep in the bed under the window, and I moved quietly so that I wouldn’t rouse them. Elena was eight at the time, and Daniel was six. Both citizens, I want to be clear about that. Everything I did was for them. Or didn’t do, you might say.
