One night, after a double shift at the coffee shop, I met my mother and the ambassador’s wife for dinner. I’d rushed to get there, mopping the floor in a hurry, forgetting to restock the condiments counter and toilet paper in the bathrooms. By the time I got to the restaurant, they were already eating dessert. I’d been starving when I left work, but when I sat down at their table I no longer felt hungry. Still, when the ambassador’s wife offered me half of her chocolate ganache, I pretended as though I was.

Her driver had brought her to the restaurant, and as we were paying we decided that I would drop her off on my way home.

“My son’s been having trouble in school,” she said as we slowed to a stop at a traffic light. “He barely passed his classes this year.”

I told her I wouldn’t worry if I were her, that junior high’s a tough time.

“I bet you were a good student.”

I laughed as I put on my blinker. “I was kind of a troublemaker,” I told her. “I didn’t really have that many friends in school, so my main form of entertainment was driving my teachers crazy.”

“I can’t imagine that,” she said. “You seem too sweet.”

We inhabited a heavy silence for the rest of the ride. I attempted to make small talk, commenting on increased traffic and new housing developments, but she didn’t respond to any of my remarks, just nodded in my peripheral vision. When we pulled up to the house, I turned to face her. I said good night.

“Do you want to come inside?”

I thanked her and said no, the expected response to the formality.

“Come. For a cup of tea.”

I felt anxious as I put the car in park and turned off the engine. My heart beat faster—had I seen too many movies? I followed her past a security guard and giant blue hydrangeas. A Sri Lankan housekeeper opened the front door as we approached and took her purse as she walked through. In the foyer, a crystal chandelier lit the room from what felt like miles away. “Ampy, make Lipton,” she said to the housekeeper. She looked at me. “Do you prefer something else?”

I shook my head. We sat down in the living room, me on the edge of the sofa and she in a leather armchair. I tried to think of something to say. Finally I asked how long she had lived in the house.