Yonko smiled a broad, shy grin when she opened her door to Amma. “Friend,” she sang, “what a pleasure. What a surprise. Will you come in?” Amma heard a true query under Yonko’s courtesy and wondered if others had refused.
“Yes. Please. If you have a moment.”
The tight lines around Yonko’s hazel eyes relaxed. “Oh, I’m so glad. We’ll have tea.” She reached out, and taking Amma’s wrist, drew her into the tiny house. The furniture in the main room was sparse, its whitewashed walls bare of decoration, but Yonko had unraveled old flour sacks and tacked the company-printed cotton panels over her windows for curtains. Right now they were tied back to let in the afternoon light.
“Please, sit here,” Yonko invited and pointed at a cushioned chair with no arms, the best one in the room.
“Thank you
