I nodded, rattled by how scared I’d been when I thought I’d done something unforgivable. Elias had made such a huge decision this week: he was going to leave his country, the people he loved, and everything he knew, in the hope of finding a place where he could be himself. “You’re so brave. I wish I could be that strong.”

He squeezed me tight as I spoke. “You are brave. Look at what you’ve done, the work you do all over the world. Going to places so far away without hesitation and doing hard things. Coming here because it was important to your father and your mother. All those things are brave.”

I shrugged off his compliments. “It doesn’t feel brave. It feels like hiding. The longer I avoid telling my mother I don’t want to do this work anymore, the longer I avoid dealing with the possibility that maybe social work in the States won’t fulfill me either. That I’m not suited for any of this.”

Elias leaned back so he could look at me. “I’ve been working for Aid USA for almost five years and I’ve seen dozens of international consultants come through here. None of them have been as respectful and thoughtful in doing their work as you. All the local staff have mentioned how much they’ve liked working with you.”

My chest warmed at his words and the sincerity with which he said them. “Thank you for that.”

“You’re welcome, but it’s the truth.”

We held each other for a while longer, and I looked at him again. “Is your dad really doing better?” Since the chat with Tsehay the other night, I’d wondered if there was more going on that I didn’t know.

The way Elias brought me closer to him before he spoke told me I was right. “My dad has severe anxiety. It’s always been manageable—with its ups and downs, of course—but his heart condition in recent years has really exacerbated it. When he’s very stressed, he starts feeling ill, and then becomes terrified he’s dying. We take him to the hospital so he can get checked out.”

I took one of the hands he’d fastened across my chest and held it. “That can’t be easy for any of you.”

He lifted a shoulder, his face resigned. “There’s a lot of stigma around mental illness here, so he won’t even consider getting help for any of it.” He smiled, but it did not reach his eyes. “The ironic part is that it’s my profession, you know? I could help him get some care, but he says people will think he’s crazy or weak.”