The truck driver let me off on Lamartine, on the odd side of the street. I felt odd too, standing in the town where my mother lived. For the first seven years of my life, we hadn’t even lived on the same continent, and now she waited only a few houses away.
Unreal. Why didn’t you have the truck driver let you off right in front of her house?
Poppa’s voice echoed peevishly in my head, as if he were the one having to navigate alone in the dark.