1. It’s midnight. I’m sitting on the veranda drinking cardamom coffee, trying hard not to call Chris. “Don’t call him and accuse him,” my therapist says. “That will only make things worse.” She suggests filling my mouth with water and keeping it there. “Bite your tongue if you feel you might say something that will …

“May God answer our prayers. ”I ask what she is here for.“ I want my son to get a visa to go to London. He has been rejected ten times now.”