"Nice weekend?" Johnny Miller asked with a smile. He was young and full of energy and excitement. Luka liked working with him because his energy was contagious.

Luka shrugged. "It not bad," he answered and set his bag down next to his desk.

"'It wasn't bad' is a better way to say it, and I'm sorry," Johnny told him with a grin. "Mine was special. I asked my girlfriend Holly to marry me and she said yes. So I'm getting married."

Luka smiled and shook his hand. "All the best," he said. He wasn't sure if that was right, but Johnny's smile didn't diminish, so Luka guessed he was okay. "I hope you be happy."

"We will be," Johnny said, shaking all over like an excited puppy.

Luka sat down and started his computer. He read his e-mails, most of them junk, and then turned around to find Johnny hardly able to sit still in his chair. "I need help," Luka said.

Johnny looked up. "What kind?"

"I need to find... head doctor," Luka told him. He was trying to think of the word he wanted to describe what this person would do, but he only knew the terms in Serbian, and that would be no help to Johnny.

Johnny smiled. "You mean a psychiatrist or a psychologist."

"The kind people talk to," Luka told him.

"There's a psychology department. I bet they can help you." Johnny became serious. "You're feeling okay, aren't you?"

"It not for me," he said. "Can you tell me where to go?"

"Sure," Johnny said. He opened his desk drawer and pulled out a map. He showed Luka where it was and then handed him the map. Luka stood up and hurried out of the office and the building, then followed the map to the area of the campus Johnny had indicated. The building he entered was old, with wooden staircases and carved banisters that showed the wear of years of students pa.s.sing through. He climbed to the second floor and looked at each door he pa.s.sed.

"Can I help you?" a lady asked when he peered inside one of the offices.

"Psychology?" he asked.

She nodded. "How may I help you?"

Luka stepped into the office. "I have a friend who needs help."

"We're a teaching inst.i.tution. We don't take patients," she said.

"Marlene, is something wrong?" a gray-haired man with gla.s.ses asked as he stepped out of an office.

"This man is looking for someone who can provide treatment. I explained we don't do that," she said.

"It's all right," the man said and motioned for Luka to follow him into a much larger office than the one he had. "How can I help you?" the man asked quietly and indicated one of the chairs.

"I Dr. Luka Krachek. I work in science research. I sorry for my English. I just come to this country."

"I'm Dr. Middlebach, the head of the psychology department." He shook Luka's hand and sat in the chair next to his. "You said you need help."

"I have friend, and he need help." Luka thought for a few seconds about how much he should explain. "As child, my friend hurt someone very bad by accident. He tell me the story and I think he not remembering right. It seem wrong, and he was six." The words came out fast.

"Okay, slow down. Your friend did something he thinks is very bad when he was six?"

"Yes. He feels very bad and cannot forgive. But at most important part, he say he not remember," Luka explained.

"Ah," Dr. Middlebach said. "I must caution you that I am not providing a diagnosis or a course of action, but children often block the most traumatic moments. It's the way they cope with things. It allows them to deal with the trauma better." He paused, and Luka waited. "There's also the possibility that your friend does remember but isn't sharing what he feels is the worst portion of his actions."

It took Luka a few seconds to figure out what he was being told. Then he shook his head. "Why he lie? He already say he did it. He think he did it."

"But you don't," Dr. Middlebach said with a small smile.

"I scientist and I must know. He does not know-he only think." Luka paused, hoping the language barrier wasn't stopping him from getting his point across. "I see man use... special sleep to get woman to remember when I was in Serbia."

"You mean hypnosis," Dr. Middlebach said. "That can help in certain circ.u.mstances, but results aren't guaranteed." He leaned a little closer. "Also, your friend has to be the one to ask for help. I can refer your friend to practicing psychologists. Many members of the faculty are also licensed to practice, and they sometimes will offer their time to someone who needs it." Dr. Middlebach sat back in his chair. "Does your friend feel sorry about what he's done?"

Luka nodded. "He thinks he is not good enough to be loved because of it."

Luka watched as deep-blue eyes scanned over him. Then Dr. Middlebach stood up and pulled a card from a holder on his desk. "Give this to your friend, and I'll see what I can do to help."

"Thank you," Luka said and extended his hand.

"Don't thank me yet. It might be very difficult for you to get your friend to ask for help. People who have been dealing with something this long tend to believe they can handle it and don't realize the benefits of talking to someone."

Luka smiled. "Thank you again. I will try."

Luka left the office, smiling at the lady sitting at her desk out front. He wished he could remember her name, but just said good-bye before hurrying back to the lab.

He spent the rest of the day immersed in his work. He tried not to think too much about Peter, but it was hard. He hadn't heard from him since Sat.u.r.day and wondered if maybe he'd pushed too hard and Peter didn't want to see him anymore. Peter had told him all along that he didn't deserve anyone, so maybe this was his way of creating distance. More than once, Luka thought about calling, but stopped himself. He needed to wait until he was done with work. Then he would make the phone call.

Finally, after hours of tedious but necessary work categorizing and stringing together the genomes for a specific section of human DNA, Luka was exhausted and his eyes hurt. He said good night to Johnny and the others he worked with and left the building. He walked to the bus stop and waited for the bus that would begin his journey home.

Once he got on his feet, Luka intended to get a license and learn to drive here, but he didn't have the money and he figured there was no use going through the ha.s.sle of getting a license if he couldn't afford a car. Not that he minded, anyway. The bus wasn't so bad, and it gave him a chance to think.

The bus arrived and he got on, showed his pa.s.s, and then took a seat. Once they started to move, Luka pulled out his phone and dialed Peter's number.

"h.e.l.lo, Peter," Luka said. "Do we have lesson tonight?"

"Um," Peter began, and Luka waited. "I guess we can. Where are you?"

"On the bus," Luka said. He'd been working on trying to use the little words he'd heard other people using. "I be home in...." He glanced at his watch. "Thirty minutes. I can cook for dinner."

Peter hesitated and then agreed. "I need to get my things first. I'll be there as soon as I can."

"Okay," Luka said with a smile. They disconnected, and he shoved the phone back in his pocket. He had to change buses and then walked the two blocks from the stop to his apartment. As he let himself in, the back door of the main house opened and Bella stepped out. She looked thin and tired, but it was good to see her out of the hospital. Luka forgot what he was doing, hurried over to her, and hugged her gently. "When you get home?"

"A few hours ago," she answered, and Luka helped her inside.

"You need rest," he said.

"I need to be around people. I'm tired of being alone. I have nothing to think about except Josif, and it's driving me crazy." Luka helped her up the few stairs and then through the house and into the living room. "My sister is supposed to come over anytime to visit." Bella sighed as she sat down. "All she's really coming for is to make sure I'm okay."

"Of course she is. She care about you. I care about you too."

"I know. And I want my sister to visit." She pulled a tissue from her sleeve. "I just want things to be the way they were."

Luka carefully pulled her into another hug. "I know." He thought about Misha and a lump formed in his throat. He didn't feel guilty for liking Peter, but that didn't dull the fact that sometimes he still missed his Misha very much. "It gets easier."

Bella nodded. "That's what everyone tells me." She'd taken the time to brush her dark hair, but the dark circles under her eyes hadn't dissipated completely, and she still seemed drawn and very sad. "I hope it's true."

"It is," Luka said.

Bella blew her nose and then sat back. "So, are you seeing Peter?"

"I don't know. I like him, but he's so sad too." That was the best word he could come up with.

"Peter has always been sad," Bella said. "He helps everyone, but never seems to get any true happiness for himself." She met Luka's eyes, and he held her gaze before turning away. But he wasn't fast enough. "You know why, don't you?"

Luka swallowed but didn't say a word.

"You do."

"Bella, I cannot...," he said.

"I won't ask you to betray what he told you," she said.

Luka heard noise from the back of the house.

"Are you expecting him?"

Luka nodded.

"Then go on. I won't be alone here for long. But please stop by whenever you want."

Luka promised he would and then walked back through the house. He met Peter at his door, and they went inside.

Neither of them said anything as Peter spread his books on the table.

"Do you hate me?" Luka finally asked.

"No. Why would I hate you?"

"You no talk to me," Luka said.

"I don't know what to say," Peter said and then slid into one of the chairs. "I like you. I do. And it scares me."

"Why?"

"Because I'm not supposed to be happy. I don't deserve it," Peter told him. "When I'm with you I forget sometimes about... what happened." He shifted in the chair until their gazes met. "What if I hurt you?"

"I no understand," Luka said, approaching Peter slowly. "It was accident, and it time you forgive you. Mama and Vince and Julie do not matter. You You need to forgive you. That where it starts." He knew that in his heart. need to forgive you. That where it starts." He knew that in his heart.

"I can't," Peter said. "Don't you think I've tried?"

Luka sighed. He thought Peter had tried, but maybe he hadn't done it the right way. "Do not hate me," Luka whispered. He reached into his pocket and placed Dr. Middlebach's card in Peter's hand.

"Why would I...." Peter shifted his gaze to the card, and Luka saw his expression darken, like a storm cloud forming on a sunny day. "What is this?"

"He the head of the psychology department." He stumbled slightly over the words in his nervousness. "I see him today, and he say that he will try to help."

"You told him?" Peter bellowed.

Luka's instinct was to take a step back, but he forced his feet still. "No. I tell him I have friend who need help. He say he will try. But you must be one to ask." Luka shook slightly. "You call or no call, it up to you." He shrugged, trying to seem casual.

"Why would you do this?" Peter asked, his expression hard.

"You help all the time. No shame in asking for help for you," Luka said, forcing himself to use English, because if he switched to Serbian he'd only yell and that wouldn't do anyone any good. "Please see him. Maybe he help you."

Peter's expression softened, but he still looked hurt. Luka had known he was taking a chance in approaching this subject at all. He still expected Peter to leave, and if he did, Luka wondered if he'd ever come back.

"I don't need this kind of help," Peter said, handing Luka back the card.

"You want what happened to change. It can't. You need to talk about it. He can help." Luka scratched his head, wondering if there was anything he could say to convince Peter. He handed the card back to Peter. "You keep. Think on it." Luka moved to the table and sat down. He thought it was best to change the subject and not push. Looking over at Peter, he waited, hoping they could get to work.

Luka noticed Peter shoved the card in his pocket. For all he knew it would simply end up going through the laundry. But he hoped Peter would use it. They got to work and spent the next hour on intensive speech and what Peter called "vocabulary." By the time they were done, Luka's head was swimming. Peter left him some exercises to do and then began gathering his things.

"You do not have to leave," Luka said, using some of the new phrasing he'd learned.

Peter smiled. "That was very good. But I need to go."

Luka reached out for his hand. "I do not want to make you feel bad," he said. "I want to help like you help me."

"It's not the same," Peter said.

Luka chuckled nervously. "It not the same because you not the one helping." He folded his arms over his chest waiting, for Peter to say he was wrong. Peter started back at him intently, and Luka returned his gaze. He wasn't going to back down. Luka felt he was right. "Let you be helped," he said. Peter looked away. Luka tightened his hold on his hand in case he decided to run.

"I won't make any promises." Peter's stance softened, and Luka guided him away from the kitchen table to the sofa. They sat down, and Luka moved closer. He'd missed Peter.

A brisk knock sounded on his door. At first he thought about ignoring it, but it came again, and Luka worried it was Bella. He got up and turned to take a quick look at Peter before walking to the door. He opened it.

"Zdravo, Luka," said a man he'd never seen before.

"Who are you?" Luka responded in Serbian and glanced over to where Peter sat. He saw him lean forward as Luka turned back to the man.

"A friend from your home," he answered in a rather menacing tone that put Luka instantly on edge.

"This is my home how," he clarified. "Please leave." Luka heard Peter get up and walk toward him. Luka didn't dare take his eyes off the stranger. He sensed Peter's approach and felt him come up behind him. "I live here and do not intend to return."

"But you did not have permission to leave," the man said.

"He's here legally," Peter said in perfect Serbian from behind him. The man's eyes widened. "Who are you?"

"I'm Dragomir Nicolic with the Serbian diplomatic mission," the man said in careful English. "We only want him to know that his friends and family at home miss him." His gaze never left Luka. "We only want to be sure Luka is adjusting to life here." He smiled the toothy grin of a tiger who'd just spotted its prey.