A brief look of surprise crossed Daniel’s face before it clicked and settled. “My father did return?”

This time Koji didn’t hesitate to answer.

“Yes.”

“When?”

Koji was sweating now, his shirt sticking to his back. “Almost five years after he left.”

Daniel sat silent for a moment. The look of surprise on his face shifted to a darker, angrier gaze as he rubbed his cheek. Koji could see the questions percolating in his mind, just like when he was a boy waiting for him at the train station.

“Did my mother see him?” he asked.

Koji shook his head. “No.”

“Why not?”

“He surprised me one night leaving your house.”

“Did she know?”

“Yes.”

Daniel coughed to clear his throat and asked, “Why didn’t either of you ever tell me?”

“You were young and we didn’t want to disturb your life,” he said. “Your mother didn’t know right away.”

“Why? Was it because . . .” Daniel didn’t finish his sentence.

Koji felt the blood rushing to his head. “You were settled and happy, and he was here and gone so quickly, yeah, it would only have upset you and your mother to see him.” And then he added, “He wasn’t here to stay.”

“Why did he come back then?”

“He was in trouble,” Koji said. “I was trying to protect you.”

Koji saw a flash of resentment in Daniel’s eyes. “You sure you weren’t trying to protect yourself?”

Daniel’s words felt like a slap. Koji gripped the glass in his hand and sat forward in the chair. “I wish it were that simple,” he said flatly. “You want to hear the truth; your father was always a selfish son of a . . .” He paused to collect himself. “He came back because he needed money. He didn’t come back for you, or for your mother.” Koji stopped. He hadn’t meant to be so brusque, but he was tired of carrying the burden.

Daniel sat still. Too still. Koji saw a thin layer of sweat on his forehead, felt his own stomach clench.

Then Daniel abruptly stood. “I have to go,” he said.

“Daniel, don’t,” Koji said urgently. “I was going to tell you.”

“But you never did tell me, did you?” Daniel snapped back.

“Daniel,” Koji repeated.

He watched him leave and wanted to grab his arm, but knew to let him go. Daniel pushed through the screen door and hurried back to the truck. The engine roared to life as it backed up and raced down the dirt road, lost in the veil of dust. Daniel just needed time, Koji reasoned; it was his nature to think everything through. It must have felt like Franklin was leaving him all over again. Even as a boy when he was angry at Mariko, he went into his room, closed the door, and figured it all out in his head before talking to her again. Some things didn’t change with age.