It was Emily’s job to start the Passover ceremony. “Why is this night different from all other nights?” she said, and everyone at the table cooed, and then they all started talking at once. After all that work assigning places, none of them were sitting where they were supposed to, except for Doran, the black cloud at the other end of the table, the threatening weather Emily felt compelled to watch. This man was linked to the family, and in an indelible way, that much was clear, but nobody would explain the nature of the connection.
Finally, Papa Moshe, her grandfather, at the head of the table, stood. “Let’s hurry up so we can eat,” he said, then sat again.
“We still have blessings to make,” said Auntie Mackie, Jonah’s grandmother, who must have arrived while Emily had been spying on So
