“No, I don’t know.”

“They both came, with the children, who were quite young, I think.”

“But what about my mother? Why didn’t he call her? Call us?”

“From what I understand, he tried. But she…” She hesitates. “She wouldn’t speak to him.”

I drop down on the sofa, stunned. That makes no sense. How many times did I hear Ammi cry behind a closed door, about how hard-hearted her family was? How they had cut her out? I’d feel a swoop in my own chest, as if I was falling with her, into a lonely hole. No light, only those mean relatives who hurt me too.

“Look, I think Salim had his own troubles. He was married, but the girl, she wasn’t doing too well with the immigration. They made the best of it, I suppose. If your mother was going to do her thing—”

“What thing?” I ask, suddenly hostile. I sense gossip wreathed around Ammi. That’s what she always said—growing up, she couldn’t bear the chatter and nasty rumors.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. Your mother, I met her only a few times. I knew Salim better. He was a few years older than me. But I remember hearing…she was such a free spirit.”

“That doesn’t sound like a compliment.”

“Ah, sharp, like Sadia,” she remarks.

I wince.

“I remember your grandparents,” she continues. “They were so sweet. We used to play in their big garden. My brother, one day, he was climbing up the tree that is next to their house, and your grandfather, he was so stern! We all were afraid of him. He was retired but we could see he was still a general. So my brother climbed up and crawled onto the limb that went right next to your grandfather’s window. We were sure he would yell at him. But then suddenly the shutter flapped open and there he was! Not stern at all, but laughing and he told my brother to keep climbing and he could come in through the window.”

She stops when she can hear me crying. Not big-deal crying, just sniffles and hot tears sliding down my cheeks. I never do that in front of strangers.

“I am so sorry, Rania. That was wrong of me. These family feuds. They are hard on everyone.”

Who are all these people? I think. A whole world that knew my grandparents, that made judgments about us? Why didn’t I know Mona, just across the river, in New Jersey? And I have cousins, here?

“Do you know where my uncle is now?”

“I heard he was in Connecticut somewhere. But I don’t have an address.”