Elena sips a sherry and watches the evening news.
A small pleasure before dinner at an empty table, as Magda refuses to come out of her room, leaving Elena to dine with memories and might-have-beens.
She is just finishing her drink when her guards let Lado in.
“I heard there was a slaughter at the Revolucion Club,” she says.
“I heard the same thing.”
“A terrible thing,” she says. “We live in terrible times.”
“Someone whispered a name to me,” Lado says.
“Whispered or screamed?”
She looks out the window into the courtyard, where she still expects Filipo to pull up in his car and twirl her in his arms.
“ Buen viaje, ” she says.
Have a nice trip.