Nina looked down from the 65th floor. The first snow of the year covered buildings, the walkways connecting them, and the empty streets below.

Nina probed the apartment until she found her granddaughter.

Arina, Nina psyked, look at the snow! Nina flashed her the view through the polyglass.

It just sits there, Arina replied. It looks boring.

Nina smiled sadly. Arina had never been outside and never would, but with no war to fight, nobody would ever take her from her father the way she’d been taken from her mother. At least they had that.

Her son called from the doorway. “Mom? Are you ready to go?”

“In a minute,” Nina said.

“We have to go,” he said, gently. “The ceremony starts in an hour.”

The snow began to fall again. It looked just like the ashes that fell on Minsk the last time Nina (or anyone still alive) had breathed unfiltered air.

“It’s silly,” she said.

“You’re a hero. It’s about time they recognized that.”

She flashed on Arina.

“I already have all the recognition I need.”