This isn’t working. Why can’t you see it? Why can’t you see ME?
There’s something I need to ask you.
My words echo on the line. I hate when there’s a time lag on calls, and I can hear my own voice bouncing back at me. It makes me so self-conscious.
“Sure, sweetie,” Ima says a moment later. Her voice is warm, guileless. I can’t imagine Ima hiding stuff from me, and not being absolutely straight and honest with all of us. And yet she did. She hid something huge. And… and she sent me back here, where it all began, without knowing a thing.
I open my mouth, play with the words, try to formulate them into a question. I don’t want to accuse or demand, but I do want to know—
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