Behind me, someone sighed heavily.

A man a few rows back muttered, just loudly enough, that we were all going to miss the departure slot because of this.

And I felt the heat climb up my neck and into my face — not embarrassment, I want to be clear about that, but rage, the specific white rage that a mother learns to swallow whole because she is holding a sleeping baby and her daughter is watching her face to find out whether the world is a safe place or not.

Chapter 6 — It’s Okay, Mom

Maya touched my arm, very softly.

“It’s okay, Mom,” she whispered.