The kitchen of the family house at eleven at night, and Wenzel is the only one still at the table. The snow outside has stopped and the radio is on low, and he has a ledger open in front of him that is not a ledger.
He closes it when you come in, which he does not do in front of Janko.
“Sit down.”
He pushes the other chair out with his foot.
“He is asleep, or he is pretending to be, and I would rather say this once than twice.”
He turns the cup in front of him a quarter turn and stops it there.
“You have been in this house eleven days. That is longer than anyone who was not born here.”
A pause, and he does not look away.
“I am not going to make this a negotiation between me and my brother. But I am going to say it out loud, because I have watched him not say it for two weeks and one of us should be honest.”