Henri took out his handkerchief. “Blow.”
Reflexively, Vitas responded and blew his nose into the handkerchief.
“Now didn’t you say Anatoly and Maxim helped you to escape?” Vitas felt the weight of Henri’s arm in its customary place around his shoulders as he pulled Vitas closer to him.
“Yes, they hid me in the trunk of the Lada, took me to the airport, and bought my tickets to come to New York. What does that have to do with a war?” Vitas, impatient for Henri to get to the point, pursed his lips.