“But at least it was awarded.” She’s staring at the ground. I push my toe against hers. “I’m sorry your father doesn’t see it.” “See what?” She raises her eyes to mine, and we trade a look that feels like a dare. “How bloody brilliant you are,” I say. “Am I?” She tugs on her headscarf, pressing a crease behind her ear. “You must be rubbing off on me.”
