Hard Beat

But as soon as that thought hits me, a dozen others flicker and fade in my mind’s eye and neutralize the bitter taste of rejection on my tongue: her fluent Dari, the pictures she’d take at night when she’d sneak out time-stamped for proof, secret phone calls in the hallway, keeping her past a secret, so many things that appeared unrelated at the time. But now this common denominator blinking like a huge arrow overhead makes the truth seem so obvious.