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“That is not useful.”

“It’s true.”

“It can be both.”

She exhales.

“The tram. The bakery by Mormor’s apartment. The park. I miss knowing which bus goes where. I miss hearing Swedish when I walk outside.”

I wait.

“And?”

Tova looks down.

“Every time I talk about Sweden, you start telling me what’s good here.”

The response comes immediately.

Her school is better. Thursday afternoons are better. She has her own room. The bullying has eased. There are people here who know her now.

Before I say any of it, she adds, “So I stopped bringing it up.”

My answer disappears.

“Why?”

She finally looks at me.

“Because you kept proving it.”

Fair.

I hate that it is fair.

“I thought you needed to see that things were getting better.”

“I do see it.”

“Then why did you think you could not tell me you still missed Sweden?”

“Because then you’d tell me why I shouldn’t.”

That one takes longer.

Colt does not step into the silence.

“Mormor knows the beginning.”

“The beginning of what?”

“Everything. If I say Lina was being weird, she knows who Lina is. If I say the park, she knows which park. If I say Midsummer, I don’t have to explain why everybody is outside or what food I mean.”

She looks toward the windows.

“Here I’m still figuring out the beginning.”

“You know this house,” I say.