She breathed deeply, calmingly, like trying to bring herself into a meditative state. "It's a difficult thing for a child to bear," she corrected gently like she'd read his mind only she hadn't.
Phoenix looked up at the ceiling, like staring through it looking for some sort of visible god. But there wasn't anything there but the ceiling. "Worked as a welder then. And left for Japan two years later. Never looked back. Left everything behind. My life, my friends, my family."
Smiling kind of oddly, she added, "Ekaterina was such a foolish child before Japan. And then she became an acrobat and artist called Phoenix. Now she thinks being Ekaterina again would be better."