“I think so.” His dad nodded. “Good.” Daniel took a bite of bok choy, the crunch of it loud in the silence. Change ought to be measured like this. The house, the furniture, the scrolls of Chinese characters were all the same, and yet if this had been high school, his dad would have spent the next several hours going over interview questions with him, asking follow-up questions in stiff, serious English until he was satisfied with his son’s answers. The past had never felt so far away.
