I fight to make myself comfortable, but I only manage three or four hours of sleep on the nights leading up to my meeting with Petra. This makes my body weary, and the school days longer until finally, I cough and sneeze. I awake the morning of my visitation day with a high fever. Mom insists I stay home from school and rest. “I’m supposed to go see Petra this afternoon,” I say, my throat burning with every word. Mom sits on the edge of my bed. “Rest, bug. We’ll see how you feel later on today.” She acts as if I mentioned wanting to meet a friend or study partner. Her sorrow at the mention of Petra’s name is missing. She doesn’t cry at night anymore while I toss and turn. What did they do to her? “I want you to come and see her with me,” I say. She shakes her head, her expression blank. “There’s no need.” In that moment, I make the decision to reveal to her all of my secrets.
