“Every day we make choices.” His voice is thick, and his eyes are down. “Or at least, we think they are choices. I handed Marik that unexploded shell, a choice that killed him. Kolya decided not to return home, a choice that killed him, too, at least in the eyes of his family. You made a choice to go to Moscow.” He pauses after Moscow, and she knows that of the three, this is the most consequential choice for him. “But there is one thing my father-in-law told me about choices that has always stayed with me: you either pull the trigger, or you kneel on the floor.”
