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Their grasp of the English language is not a reflection of their intelligence, but a reflection of the sacrifice that they have made for us.
“Oh.” She nods. “Yes, you right, more respectful.” She pats me on the cheek. “I raise you so well.” Hysteria rises from deep in my stomach and I have to swallow it. Trust Ma to take pride in my etiquette when I’ve just shown her my date, whom I’ve killed, in the trunk of my car. “I did just kill a person, so I don’t know that you can say you’ve raised me well.” “Oh, he must deserve it.” I bite my lip to keep from bursting into tears again. I’m so grateful that I don’t have to explain myself to her.
