“Sorry I couldn't make it, Mom.” Darren kissed the back of the hand of the woman who had given birth to him, hugged her with great longing, then glanced at the pile of boxes near the entrance of the house.“Still need a favor?” He offered and was already preparing to roll up the sleeves of his shirt, but the woman who looked fresh in her twilight years restrained her eldest son's wrist.“No, I'll take care of that tomorrow.” Dara, her mother, pulled her through the main room and out onto the back porch. “Mommy needs to talk to you.”“Why here, Mom?” asked Darren.Being on the back porch that usually showed the rice fields, at night it looked creepy, silent. Only the sounds of frogs, crickets, and maybe a gecko calling to each other after the rain. It was cold.Dara patted the emptiness of the long bench she was sitting on, asking her son to come closer. “After this, be honest with Mother. Let me talk to you first and don't cut me off until I'm done.”Darren nodded, looking down as he
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