“Father,” Ming said, “it will be better, nicer, to come in all at the same time.” Mrs. Wong reached for her husband’s arm, but he wrenched away. “I go sit! You no want sit now, you stay! Where seat?” Ahmal looked to David, who shook his head. “Mr. Ahmal! Check sheet! Where I sit?” “Well, you’re going to be in D-three, sir, but no one—” “I sit,” he said, pushing past, daring someone to stop him. “He’s only going to embarrass himself,” David said. “Let him go.”
