“But you’re just a child. How could you do this?” the journalist asked.
Liza gazed at her bandages, remembering the excruciating pain in her calves when the shots flashed through the car side and made her mother silent. Stiff and hot, she pressed the pedal, peeping over the wheel on the wrecked road, turning left and right, as uncle Slava instructed her in a voice trailing gradually away. Mother’s face, shaking in the rear-view mirror, grew almost snow-white pale, and baby Dima couldn’t stop sobbing.
“If not me,” Liza said in her new, calm and adult voice, “then who?”
Liza gazed at her bandages, remembering the excruciating pain in her calves when the shots flashed through the car side and made her mother silent. Stiff and hot, she pressed the pedal, peeping over the wheel on the wrecked road, turning left and right, as uncle Slava instructed her in a voice trailing gradually away. Mother’s face, shaking in the rear-view mirror, grew almost snow-white pale, and baby Dima couldn’t stop sobbing.
“If not me,” Liza said in her new, calm and adult voice, “then who?”
