Shair returns to clinic today, and I have meticulously planned the details of our encounter. I have him scheduled as the last patient of the day so that I can take my time and not worry about keeping anyone waiting on me. I have asked that he be brought into the room farthest from the reception area so the staff does not overhear our conversation. I have pulled my hair into a high bun to stretch my height.

My phone buzzes with a text from Adam.

Morning. Sleep well?

Not at all, but I keep this to myself.

Morning to you too. You’re up early.

Adam generally isn’t up at this hour. He’s a night owl, fueled by energy drinks and the rush of deadlines.

Not exactly. Pulled an all-nighter with my team. We came up with some great ideas.

That’s good! I want to hear about it. You should get some sleep first, I reply.

I grab my bag and lock my apartment door behind me. The hallway is dimly lit and quiet as I walk toward the elevator bank. The smell of coffee tells me at least one of my neighbors is up.

I press the button and my breath catches in my throat when I see my hazy reflection in the elevator doors. I’m wearing an olive blouse tucked into a deep brown skirt. My cardigan has wooden buttons, and the gold of my necklace catches the light.

It shouldn’t surprise me that I look like my mother. I buy clothes that remind me of her, dresses and skirts that I can hang in my closet to imagine I am a child peering into my mother’s wardrobe. I have outfits that resemble each of the ones she is wearing in the photographs I snuck out of Kabul.

My chest tightens. I am sitting at the foot of a volcano, heat slithering toward me. I take a step to the side so I can no longer see my reflection and pull out my phone to distract myself. Adam hasn’t fallen asleep yet it seems.

Met with my finance team yesterday. Things going well. Dollars rolling in but we need to widen the circle. Been meaning to talk to you about that. Maybe tonight?

I feel myself stiffen. It will take some effort to get used to Adam’s new world, his priorities. Meet-and-greets and drinks with donors, interviews, and his face on flyers. I wonder what my father would make of this world, of the money and the spinning of stories. Once Adam knows everything, he’ll understand why I’ve eschewed politics in any form until now.

Adam’s also forgotten that Mom’s coming into town today.

Taking Mom to see Oklahoma! tonight, remember? Call me later. Congrats on the dollars!