On his fourth birthday, my son told me he wanted to leave. We must move on, he said, get away from this dustball while we still can.
He was right, I knew, but he was talking about Firstfall, where for me, in spite of everything, love had bloomed.
“It’s our home, Shal. We’re happy here,” I said, not even convincing myself.
“Helen, please. You’re a former Council leader; it’s...