“Mom, I’ll grab the med kit. Ali will be here any minute,” I said as I headed toward their room. We needed to get to the airport as soon as possible. I was wearing the yellow sweater my mom had knitted for me, the one with butterflies on it, but I didn’t care—I paired it with jeans and called it good enough. Dad hadn’t come home since last night. Not the first time, and certainly not the last. I didn’t really care; at least he’d sent money. That’s all that mattered.
I came back into the living room, med kit in hand, just in time to see Ali giving my mom a kiss on the forehead. He was dressed in all black, from his loose shirt to his pants, but he somehow managed to pull it off. Typical Ali.
“What’s up, habibty’s son?” he said, waving at me with a grin.
“Everything’s ready. Let’s get out of here,” I replied, glancing around the house one last time.
“So let’s go, people!” he yelled, leading the way.