You say if you had to guess, you think I’m going through a lot as well? I am fine, sir. I would not say this is ideal, but I am fine. I have everything under control. I am a man, and this is my family. Things might be difficult, not exactly the way I would have liked them to turn out, but I am fine.

These questions have nothing to do with why we were pulled aside on that plane. My family was just having a conversation. That was all.

Fifteen Days Ago

I DIPPED MY fingers in the fountain. I had spilled some prosecco on my shirt right before my parents called, before I clumsily picked up, and I figured I should try and wash it out.

“Where are you?” my dad asked over the phone. “Why do you keep ignoring our calls?”

“It doesn’t matter,” I said, dabbing the new shirt I bought yesterday. The store was called OVS; basically, the Italian T.J.Maxx.

“Amir,” he said, exhausted. “Just come home.”

“After that last call? No way,” I said, standing up from the ledge of the marble fountain. I saw Jahan and the others out of the corner of my eye, on a bench at the edge of the park, opening another bottle of prosecco. I wanted to be back with them.

“Please. We can work on it together,” my mom said. Those were the same words she used on our last call, the one that ended in fireworks. How long ago was that now? Four days? Five?

“Work on it,” I spat into the phone.

“We can get you help,” Dad said. “You’re confused, we understand—”

“I’m not confused!” I yelled. I nearly knocked over a little Italian boy. “I already told you. I am not confused. I could not be less confused. There is not a single bone in my body that is confused.”

“Yes, you are!”

“My dear son, please listen. Life is going to be harder. You’re not—”

“One second,” I said. I saw Jahan approaching, waving, his fingernails covered in black nail polish. Is everything okay? he mouthed. It’s fine, I mouthed back. He nodded and turned around.

My heart was racing all of a sudden. Jahan and the others were looking at me suspiciously now. “I have to go,” I said to my mom and dad.

I took a long, drawn-out breath, trying to wipe the anger off my face. I shouldn’t have picked up the call, not after the last one. Great. Now I was all riled up again. It was like I had dropped a box labeled FRAGILE: HANDLE WITH CARE.

The whole time, I could picture exactly how it would go down if I went home. I didn’t have to do the mental math anymore. I had read enough online forums to read between the lines when they said, “We can work on it.”

There was no way I was leaving Italy at this point. Besides, I had a life here.