“Olga, we’re making a big mistake,” Creighton said with a degree of ominousness. “You need to leave today. There might not be a next time.”
“No, no, I can’t today! I’m not ready,” Olga said, flustered. She felt an alternating chill and fever of anxiety. “Next time, I promise you! It will only be a few days. What could change? You will come back, won’t you?”
Creighton sighed heavily. “I don’t know.”
“Of course you’ll come back! By then the children will be taken care of. I’ll feel better, and you will too.”
The American listened, but then shook his head gloomily. “I’m worried about you,” he said, trying to keep his voice calm. “But I can’t force you. It’s your decision.”
He fell silent, not even attempting to repeat his arguments. Common sense told him that it was not up to him whether
