"H-hello. My name is Claire McBice, and I have been under my son's control for nearly two weeks."I don't dare breathe until their light clapping finis...es. Then I sigh, from full breath, to empty lungs. I study the women apprehensively. Ingrid saves me."Thank you Claire. Is there something specific you'd like to unburden this afternoon?" Uh," I feel stupid. "No, YES, um, probably..." I don't know how to proceed. "Maybe, I should listen first."Ingrid nods. I can take regular breaths after that.A. He had been to Afghanistan in the late seventiesand more recently Nigeria, which he described as beautifully chaotic. Iexpected that he would enter districts that would make my mother'salready grey hair turn white. He would neither take her to those placesnor would he tell her about them.I replied, "Let's keep it that way." I stayed focused on my phone."You've almost always got your headphones on. You love music right?Well why don't you come hear me play? I play every day at lunch over bythe. More

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