“Orfe raised her face and, just for a second, I could see in her eyes a catch-me-if-you-can expression. I’d seen it before, in games of red rover. It was there for just a second before she had it hidden behind a hand that brushed hair out of her eyes. When she lowered her hand, her eyes were full of resolution and good sense. If you looked at her, if the glance of her eyes fell over you, you would know that she resolved on sensible action, which was what we’ve advised.

 I knew better.

I knew better and I didn’t blame her: If there is someone like Yuri in your life, the only sensible line of action is to do everything you can to keep him or get him back. Anything else is nonsense. Is cowardice or failure of love. If you can climb Annapurna, then there is no other mountain you want to set your feet on, no matter how much good sense people talk to you, about how high and hurtful Annapurna is. The only thing that made sense was for Orfe to go to the house and find Yuri. I didn’t think Yuri would ever come back on his own, not now that he has failed. When you have failed once, you know you can fail again; until then you can hope you won’t. Having failed her once, Yuri would refuse to leave her in a position where she could be failed by him again. Yuri knew how to love.”