“I miss him,” Olga says, starting to cry again. “Yes,” Mama says in a throaty voice. “Forever. That’s how long we’ll have an empty place at the table.” She draws back at last. “But we will not speak of him again. Not ever. Not even to each other.” “But . . . you cannot just stop your feelings,” Vera says. “Perhaps,” her mother says, “ but you can refuse to express them, and that is what we will do.”
