I suddenly saw the whole experience in a different light. The odd hint of disappointment in his voice when he realized I hadn’t come to Detroit alone. How his wife, Rosa, had prepared that enormous feast only to make an excuse for her and her daughter to leave, as though he’d asked to be alone with me. How he’d looked me up on Instagram prior to my visit and noticed how closely I resembled Carol. The string of Instagram notifications he later left on my account, as he scrolled far back through my photos, as if savoring them.
