“Thank you for teaching her,” Mom says. “She’s so lucky to have you.” “The pleasure’s all ours,” Mrs. Ortiz says. “Have you seen her graphic novel?” “I have!” Mom says proudly, stroking my hair with her hand. “It’s like opening a window into her heart.” My chin trembles slightly as I turn to Mom. All I’ve ever wanted is to have a direct path to her heart. And now I’ve got one. I reach out my arms and hug her. “Love you,” I whisper, right then and there, even though in all the American movies I’ve watched, no one has ever said I love you at an open house. But I don’t care. I’m living my own
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