Blind Love 

Is it true that love is blind? Doesn’t it hurt her anew every time she thinks of how her son rejected the world she chose?

My brother slides his smartphone out of his pocket in a fluid motion and bends his head toward the screen.

“Nachy!”

He jerks up, alarmed at the horror in my whisper.

“What’s the matter, Raizy?”

I point my chin at the clock, trying not to alarm my mother. “It’s Yom Tov!”