well, he said.
You have a good afternoon.
He turned and walked back to his car.
Before he entered, he looked once more at the house.
Not at Ellis, not at Ruth, at the house.
Two weeks later, Malik was in school when the bulldozers came.
He did not hear his mother scream.
He did not see his father holding papers in the air, begging the officials to explain why government men were standing on private land.
He did not see Ruth fall to her knees when the porch broke
