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“No, really, Dovid,” Zalman continued, dropping into the seat beside me. “I care about you. Something’s bothering you. I can feel it”

“Is that all everyone knows me as? The granddaughter whose father was killed? The orphan?”

I ran as fast and hard as I could, twisting through alleyways only a Yerushalmi would know, hoping to lose the men I imagined were following closely behind me

It was only Mama’s voice in my head whispering: Slow down. Think about what you’re saying

Three stops and then I was supposed to get off. And then Bubbe would be waiting for me. Three stops, I told myself

It was a crazy plan but I didn’t say anything. Nothing would happen with this plan either