“We can. We have passports. We can leave and run to Mexico. I’m sure they need doctors there. I took Spanish in high school. I could manage.” I don’t mention that I barely scraped by with a C minus because I cheated and wrote vocab words on my hand. My brain can barely function in English. “We’re not running away to Mexico.” “Fine. Let’s go to Florida. Get lost there. Change our names, become cast members at Disney World. I’m short. Maybe I could be Minnie Mouse.” My head tips from left to right, contemplating. “That sounds like fun.” “You don’t like confined spaces.”
