Bina tries to ignore the different feelings building up in her. Happiness at her daughter’s excitement. Fear at the thought of her leaving Atlanta. Relief at having her home soon.

“So you really want this, yes?” Bina asks.

“I do.” Natasha clasps her hands together. “I really, really do. Thank you, Mom. I never thought you’d be okay with something like this.”

Neither did I, Bina thinks.

“I just want you to be happy,” she says.

Natasha smiles. “I feel . . . I feel like I’ve gotten to know a different part of you since I’ve been here.”

“I agree,” Bina says. She’s about to say the car is parked right outside and that the second Dr. Chan puts in the discharge order, they’ll leave that locked door forever. But something pushes Bina into another direction. And she can’t ignore it.

“Beta, before we go”—Bina takes a deep breath—“there’s something I should have told you a long time ago.”

Natasha raises her eyebrows. “What?”

“I was in a place like . . . this many years ago.”

“What? You were in a psych ward?” Natasha’s face is confused as she processes Bina’s words. “When?”

“Twice.”

“Twice? Seriously?” Natasha’s eyes widen.

“The first time was when I was pursuing my acting, in the middle of a rehearsal. I had gotten a really big role, the kind that could have made me a real star.” Bina nods. “And then again, right after I gave birth to your sister.”

“But . . .” Natasha shakes her head. “I don’t . . . that doesn’t . . . but you never . . .”

Bina blinks away tears. She pictures the horrified expressions of the other actors, the stern nurse who told her to be quiet, the thin, tall doctor who held the massive needle that was soon injected into her arm.

“I should have told you a long time ago. But Dad and I thought it was better that all of you not know. It was a really hard time for us. I hated everything: the hospital, the doctors, the medications they made me take.”

“What happened? Did you try to hurt yourself, too?”