But on the day Mama tells me that Issa is gone, the sky is bright, and I’m happy because in math class my teacher, Mr. Anderson, asked me a question in front of everyone and I got the answer right. In English. In front of everyone. So when I burst through the front door of Uncle Mazin and Aunt Michelle’s house— which I am beginning to think of as my house too— I am not expecting to find Mama waiting for me in the chair by the big bay window, her face illuminated by the watery winter light. She stands up from the chair and hugs me tight, so tight that I swear I feel the baby inside of her,
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