“How close did Michael come to dying from the pneumonia?”
“Our medical director figures he might have survived another twelve hours at most. He had a 107 degree temperature when we found him. I didn’t recognize him.” On screen, Sophie touched her finger to the corner of her eye, and Michael leaned over to kiss the side of her head. She hadn’t realized they’d caught that moment on film.
“You are together now. Romantically.”
“Yes,” Sophie responded.
“For the first time in your eleven-year friendship.”
“That is correct,” said Michael.
“Many people find it difficult to believe that you haven’t been involved prior to this.”
“Ah, but that is a complex story,” he said, smiling. “We have been in love for a very long time, but we had many reasons why we could not act upon it. School. Our careers. Geography. Culture.” He smiled teasingly. “For a while we did not speak to one another.”
“You fought?”
“Oh, yes,” Sophie said. “We fought. Constantly, especially as teenagers. We still do. Only now, we’re better at compromising and making up.”
“What finally changed after all this time to bring you together? Was it the war? The threat of losing one another?”
“Not in the way most people would think,” Sophie said. “It certainly added a sense of urgency. But we would have gotten together even if the war had not broken out. It was time. After all these years, it was finally time.”
“Do you have plans for the future together? Marriage? Family?” They glanced at each other quickly and smiled.
“We have been dating for just five weeks. The topic has not yet come up in conversation,” he said delicately. Everyone laughed. “I am traditional in my views regarding relationships. Yes, I wish to marry Sophie. Sooner rather than later, if she permits. She already knows my views on having children.” Sophie blushed on screen. She’d remembered what he’d said to her at Carter’s house a few weeks earlier. “But I am willing to wait as long as I have to.”
“And you, Sophie?”
“I can’t imagine a life without Michael in it. Am I ready to get married and have babies? Not yet, but soon. I’ll do those things with him when the time comes.”
“And your careers?”
“I don’t plan on changing my line of work,” Sophie said. “Refugee Crisis International’s services are very much needed in this world.” They both looked at Michael. At the time, she had seen something in his eyes, something evasive. She saw it again now on screen.
“I have some thinking to do, decisions to make, about what my next steps are,” he said smoothly. “Some adjusting to do after several months under very challenging circumstances. For now, I will be staying in New York City and being thankful that I am alive.”
“Will you return to Orlisia one day?”
“I hope so,” said Michael. “Perhaps even to live for a little while?” His voice went up a bit at the end of the sentence, and he looked at Sophie out of the corner of his eye with a hopeful smile. On screen, she smiled at his hesitancy.
“Another topic that has not yet come up in conversation,” Sophie explained. “I wouldn’t be opposed to spending a few years in a free Orlisia in a time of peace. I’ve not seen the country at her best.”
Throughout the interview, Annabelle had had a folder beside her, from which she now drew a single piece of paper.
“I want to go back to something we touched on earlier. The media has been giving you a hard time over the question of cost. About how much money was spent rescuing this one individual while tens of thousands of others are in need.
“This is a balance sheet showing exactly how much money was spent to find and repatriate you, Michael. This is all a matter of public record, of course.” She handed the piece of paper to him, and he gave it a cursory glance.
“Yes, I am aware of this figure. I am also aware that it was fully reimbursed to the coalition by a private donor. No public money or donations were spent on this effort.” He handed the paper back to her.
“That amount is well into six figures,” she noted. “Do you know who made that donation?”
“No,” Sophie said honestly. “We were told that the donor requested anonymity. We respected that, and we are enormously grateful to them, whoever they might be.”
“We traced the parties involved and spoke with them.”
At the time of the interview, Sophie’s heart had sunk at Annabelle’s words. This was a gross violation of someone’s privacy. She and Michael had suspected that the money had been donated by the Orlisian community, or by Maxwell and Signe themselves. Whoever it was, the donor didn’t want people to know.
“The party eventually agreed to be interviewed for this program. Would you like to see that interview?”
“Do we have a choice?” asked Michael acidly.