I threw it across the room.
My mother didn’t say anything. She just went and picked it up and put it on my shelf.
Niye never came to see me.
His mother came. She came to the hospital every single day that first week. She brought my mom coffee and sat with her in the hallway. Once, she came into my room and held my hand and didn’t say anything. Her hand was cold, and it was shaking, and I could hear her trying not to cry.
But Niye never came.
When I finally got home in October, I asked my mom if I could go see him.
She was quiet for a long time.
“They moved, honey,” she said. “Last week. His dad got a job in another state.”
“Where?”
“I don’t know, sweetheart. They left in a hurry.”
I didn’t understand it then. I thought maybe I’d done something wrong. I thought he was mad at me for falling.
