Nina smiled. This was her leap. Not falling — flying.
But Nina’s life had never been proper. It had been loud, Georgian-loud: feasts that lasted until dawn, arguments that shattered wine glasses, a father who danced on tables and died in a hospital corridor, alone, because the proper visiting hours hadn’t started yet.
She took out her phone and called her mother.
On the other end, silence. Then the sound of her mother crying.
