“You guys.” Mama’s face clouds. “Please? Please, can you get along? I need you to behave.” Ayla and Ismail start to sniffle. “Please? I know it’s hard, but it’s how you are helping Baba and me so we can do this, right? So we don’t have to worry about you?” “Fine,” Ayla concedes. “I guess we can . . . sacrifice.”
