Terminal Four
My mother stood up when we came in.
She looked at the girls for about four seconds and then she looked at me and said, “Marcus, this is emotional and it is reckless, and I did what was necessary six years ago and I am not going to apologize for it in front of children.”
And Maya — who was five, and who had been awake since four in the morning, and who had been in a car for seventy minutes, and who had understood roughly none of it — said, out loud, into a silent boardroom:
“Is this your mom?”
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