'Bless you, Sylviana,' he said wearily. She almost smiled.
'How did you know it was me?'
'I knew.' Then, as if this conveyed too much. 'Ruth Welles always tells me I'm working too hard, and Kataya's fingers feel like flesh wrapped around steel, though she means well….. I'm afraid she's still not quite comfortable around me. Around any of us, really.'
'Why?' asked the younger woman, unable to feign indifference.
'Will you promise not to hold it against her? I wish the two of you could make peace. There's so much that's good in both of you.'
Sylviana sighed deeply, again fighting off the urge to embrace him and pour out her heart. 'I'll try. Why, then?'
'She still has too much resentment against the west.'
She moved to stand beside him, her look intent. 'From what?'
.. 'A large number of Japanese, including her grandparents, died a slow and terrible death from the radiation left behind by the bombing of Hiroshima. And here, now, losing everything to a War in which her country played no part, but was decimated nonetheless, killing her husband. And to lose the baby the way she did—-not even knowing she was pregnant, then coming out of suspension to immediate miscarriage, hormonal crash, and the end of the world as she knew it. . .sweet Savior. It would have killed almost anyone else. You HAVE to forgive her, Sylviana. It's not her fault.'
She pulled up another stool and sat beside him, silent and thoughtful.
Finally she said. 'It's not my fault, either.'