The children’s voices crackled through the phone and into Fatiha’s gray-walled living room.
“When are we going to Grandma’s?” one implored in the background, and then into the phone: “Are you coming to get us?”
In the hallway, six coat hooks were fixed in a row at child’s height. A backpack hung on each one. Up a steep stairway, sheets with characters from Pixar’s “Cars” were carefully tucked into bunk beds, awaiting the children’s return.
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