“No. It’s my visit day. The rules are the day, not the time. Right?” I look at the people behind me. “Right, the day?”

There are a few concerned looks, but no one is willing to back me up. Mama takes Corinne to sit without arguing. I study him: I’m not going to win.

More rumblings behind me. A little boy asks, “When did we visit last Saturday? Are we going to have to wait, too?”

I start the waiting process over and join Mama so I can follow these new rules.

Corinne grabs my hand. I hold it fiercely until she smiles. Her eyes soften.

“Tell me how he was last time,” Corinne asks, since she didn’t go with Mama on Monday after the interview incident.

“Tired,” I say.

Corinne’s neck tightens.

“But good. He was strong, said he missed you the most.”

“He did not.” Corinne rolls her eyes, then studies me for the truth.

“He did. He said you grow up the fastest.”

A smile creeps across Corinne’s face. Mama winks, then puts her arms around Corinne.

“Well, I sure don’t look a day over thirty,” Mama says.

“Thirty?” I smirk.

“Yes. I hear it every day at work.” Mama rocks in her seat, all black-don’t-crack proud.

“You think he’ll notice I’m taller?” Corinne scoots up in her seat and stretches her neck up.

“Definitely,” I say.

“Yeah, he’ll notice,” Corinne says softly.

I glance at Mama, and her eyes are misty. Like me, she knows Corinne’s been marking off her height for a long time, and for her sake I hope she never has to worry about Daddy missing her grow up much more than he has already.

“Don’t talk your daddy’s ear off about Jamal,” Mama says. “He wants to hear how you’re doing.”

I nod, but it’s a promise I won’t be able to keep.

“Lillian, Corinne, and Tracy Beaumont.” The CO finally calls us when he’s ready, waving us through to the visitation room. When I pass him, he grips my arm and leans in. “Disruptions get visitation revoked. Remember that next time you wanna show off on TV.”

I take a hushed breath as I pull my arm back. He made a lesson of me because of The Susan Touric Show.

The crank of a door pops, red lights flashing, then the sounds of the buzz. The men are all lined up, Daddy in the middle. He’s clean-shaven, Afro combed out but freshly cut with sharp edges that frame his face. His face lights up when he sees us, and we let out a resounding breath as we wait for him to greet us.