MY FRIENDS FATHER
I looked at Sayidati and turned toward her to explain.
“Young Laís...” I placed my hand on my chest and smiled at her. “My name is Hassan, and I’m not from here. I’m from Sudan, an Arab country.”
She stared at me expectantly, still waiting for an explanation of why I called her mother that.
“Sayidati means Madame in my language,” I said, noticing a smile spreading across her face.
I could see how much she lit up at my clarification. It was clear how protective they were of my Sayidati, and I knew that if, at some point, we became official, I’d have my hands full with these children.
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