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28 Lydia
LydiaLydiaShe had patiently waited her turn, along with all the others who had caravanned over from Unity, when word of what happened reached the school. “In the spirit of solidarity,” Mr. Luna had directed, “We are her people now.”
They were all there at the hospital, waiting. Mr. and Mrs. Luna, Sherry and Ashraf, Aziza, Mya, Aida, and so many more, waiting. For someone who came to the country alone, who had no one listed as an emergency contact, Hanan was well represented, loved. It is the spirit of who she is, what she is, refugee, Muslim, survivor, builder, that they all understand. They need not know her story, for regardless they know her.
herHours she had sat there, sipping stale coffee in the waiting room, like everyone else, pretending not to know what they all a
