“This worked for him, too.” He stroked his beard. “He’s out of that fucking desert prison, back in Isfahan in the seventies. I don’t look like his father, but I can pass for one of his uncles, and apparently they got on pretty well. I told him he was staying in a posh hotel where the staff all liked practicing their English for the tourists.”
Kate began crying, but when she saw the effect on Michael she forced herself to stop.
“It’s all right,” Reza said. “He’s happy now. Everything’s going to be all right.”
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Copyright
The Nearest © 2018 by Greg Egan
Art copyright © 2018 by Ashley Mackenzie