“I, well—” She paused, letting the usual impulse to downplay her own achievements pass. “Yes, actually. One of our candidates gave a speech I thought would work well online, so I spliced it together with some other footage and uploaded the video to a few social media platforms. It turns out I was right.” She laughed. “He did end up losing that race, but we got him elected to Congress—and if all goes well in a few weeks, he’ll be the next Governor of Pennsylvania.”

Danial squeezed her hand, a quiet affirmation of her honest and unminimized answer. “Congressman Stephens has done a lot of great work in Pennsylvania,” he added.

“And if he wins,” Alex said, blooming under his encouragement, “he’ll be our party’s first governor, which is very exciting.”

“You know,” Marjane reached up and placed her hand on the ornate handle of her cane, “my mother-in-law was very involved in politics. That is her”—she lifted the cane slightly off the carpet, pointing toward one of the many black and white photos in heavy silver frames on a piano—“the day women got the right to vote in Iran.”

Danial walked over to the piano, bringing the photo to Alex so she could have a closer look. She took the frame from his hand, running hers along the edge as she studied the women in the photo, in their smart sixties outfits and teased hair.

“That must have been incredible,” Alex mused, “living through history like that.”

“Mm.” Marjane nodded, a subtle smile at the corner of her lips. “Living through history can be many things.”

“Oh,” Alex corrected. “Of course, and not always in a good way.”

“That’s why it’s so important who is deciding the history we live through.” Benson stretched in her lap, resettling herself to a place of comfort. “You should be very proud of your work.”

“Thank you,” Alex said, feeling a flutter at the depth of the compliment.

From the parlor doorway, Leena cleared her throat: “Marjane, your guests are here.”

Her hand still on the cane, she slowly nudged Benson from her lap. Danial rose to try to stop her from getting up alone, but this time, she gave him a brief, firm look that made him sit back down immediately. She slowly brought herself to her feet, smoothing out the front of her dress with one hand and stepping just slightly forward from the sofa.

In the doorway, Alex’s father smiled nervously, waving at their group, while Elena crossed the room and opened her arms wide to Marjane.

“Oh, my god,” Alex gasped, bringing a hand to her chest as she and Danial rose to greet her father.

“Hi, Dad,” she said, still not believing he was actually there, and he pulled her into his arms for a familiar bear hug.