Evelina eventually wet her lips, then took a small step closer to the cell. “I still don’t understand. What times do you mean?”
“When our parents died at sea.” Mikhail reached up, fisting his hair at the roots before looking at Alexei. “Don’t you regret not begging Father to go with them that day? Don’t you ever wonder if—had you been there—you would have been able to convince him to stay in Hoonah rather than try to beat the storm home?”
Alexei gave his head a slow shake. “I was in San Francisco studying naval architecture. I didn’t even know he was going to Hoonah.”
Mikhail swallowed. Alexei had never blamed himself? Not once?
“I was fifteen.” Evelina’s voice sounded soothing despite the darkness of the jail. “I never saw it as my responsibility to try and keep them safe.”
“Surely I’m not the only one who has regrets about that day,” he whispered. “What about Sacha? Does he wish he would have done something different?”
Again, Alexei shook his head. “You’d have to ask him to know that for certain, but he’s never expressed anything like that to me.”
“Is that why you guide all these expeditions?” Evelina tilted her head to the side, her eyes latched to his. “Are you somehow trying to redeem yourself for what you feel you didn’t do when Father died?”
Was he trying to redeem himself? Was that what this was? “I just don’t want any more senseless deaths. We’re surrounded by it. I try to use the talents God has given me to keep people alive, but after this...”
He pressed his eyes shut against the burning sensation threatening to overtake them. “I’m sorry for not being stronger. For not being better. For giving the Caldwells an easy opportunity to attack us.”
“Using your talents doesn’t mean you have to be perfect, or that whatever you try to do needs to end perfectly.” Alexei stepped closer to the cell door, his brows drawn down. “Look at Jeremiah. He spent years warning the nation of Israel to repent or God would judge them. No one listened, yet Jeremiah stayed faithful. He was imprisoned, beaten, and mocked, and yet he said, ‘The Lord is good unto them that wait for him.’”
Alexei pulled a small Bible from the pocket of his coat. “And do you know when he said that? After he was captured and imprisoned, as he was watching the nation he loved fall? He said that it’s ‘of the Lord’s mercies that we are not consumed, because his compassions fail not. They are new every morning.’ That’s how great God’s faithfulness is.”
Alexei slid the Bible through the bars. “It’s in Lamentations three. You should read it while you’re in here. Or better yet, read the whole book of Jeremiah followed by Lamentations. Then you’ll get a full idea of what happened.”
Was Alexei right? Was he so focused on being perfect as a guide—on preventing everyone from dying—that he was missing some bigger truth that God had for him?
Mikhail took the Bible. It was small and slender. “I don’t know what to say.”
“And about our parents’ deaths.” Alexei swallowed, the muscles of his throat working overly hard in the dim lighting of the jail. “There’s nothing for you to feel guilty about. I have a feeling it’s the same way for the people you’ve lost in the wilderness too. They were in God’s hands, every last one of them. The Lord gives, and the Lord takes away. ‘Blessed be the name of the Lord.’”
Was it really that simple? Did he really just need to lay those deaths at Christ’s feet and recognize that God was ultimately the one in control, not him? He hung his head. “I just... I feel like I tried so hard to bring the missing scientists home safely. I never expected it to land me in jail—or create problems for our family.”
“That just means you’re like the prophet Jeremiah, trying so hard to save those around you that you get yourself into trouble. It seems like a good problem to have.” Evelina smiled at him, then passed the paper in her hand through the bars of his cell. “But our legal system is probably a bit more evolved than the one Jeremiah faced, so I’d like to work on getting you out of here. As you can see on the paper, they’re charging you with negligent homicide, which is different than murder. It means that your negligence on the trail led to Richard’s accidental death, and had you been more vigilant with your responsibilities, Richard wouldn’t have died.”
“Yes, of course Richard would be alive if I’d been more vigilant. If I’d just walked farther onto the log or?—”
“No. You have to stop thinking that way.” Evelina cut him off. “Unless you want to spend the next ten years of your life in prison.”
He swallowed. Was that how long the sentence was for negligent homicide? He’d be thirty-seven when he got out of prison, so old he might not be able to guide anymore. He’d miss Inessa and Ilya becoming adults, finding jobs, and getting married. He’d miss the births of his nieces and nephews. And his own prospects for finding a wife at such an old age, after being convicted of such a serious crime would be nearly nonexistent.
“We have one big thing working in our favor,” Evelina said, her voice tugging him back to where he leaned against the cold bars of his cell. “It’s unusual to charge a guide—or anyone else who spends time in the wilderness—with any type of homicide. Deaths happen in the wild. That’s been commonly understood up until now. I’m going to try to get this case thrown out on that fact alone, so you never have to stand trial or testify. But if you do have to go to trial, we’ll need to prove that you weren’t negligent, that the temporary bridge you constructed was safe, and that you had a pattern of ensuring everyone’s safety for the duration of your time in the wilderness. Eventually you’ll need to testify, and I’ll practice cross-examining you, because we can’t, for any reason, have you admit that you should or could have done more to stop Richard from dying, regardless of your thoughts or feelings about the incident. Saying such a thing would result in an admission of guilt and a prison sentence. Do you understand?”
He nodded, even though he still wasn’t sure he was innocent when it came to Richard or his parents or anyone else.
Evelina took out her pencil and clipboard. “Let’s start by listing some of the safety-conscious things you did for the botanists.”
Mikhail glanced down at the paper she’d handed him. He was still holding it for some reason, even though the words were nothing more than a swimming jumble of letters bobbing across the page.
“If you expect me to understand anything on this paper, you’ll have to read it to me.” He shoved it back through the bars.
Alexei’s brows drew down. “Why do you need her to read it?”
He sighed. “Where’s Kate? Why didn’t she come to visit?”
“You’re asking for a doctor when you need a lawyer?” A frown crept across Alexei’s mouth.
Mikhail raked a hand through his hair. He supposed that if he needed help getting out of jail, he’d have to tell the rest of his family he couldn’t read. What was the point trying to hide it anymore? “Because I can’t read, and Kate always helps me with it.”
