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‘Welcome to our home,’ he said in broken French

‘It’s an honor,’ said Ga practicing the other’s language

The next hour was taken up with a cacophony of relatives shouting at each other in languages Ganize One old aunt, he was sure, was creating it as she went along

The food kept cos It was a joyous, even riotous, event And yet, every ti just outside the living room Finally he approached her

‘Why don’t you come in?’

‘I’m fine here, sir’

He watched her for a o in?’ he asked in a next to her on the threshold

She shook her head ‘I’ve never been invited’

‘But it’s your own home’

‘They’ve taken all the places There’s no room’

‘How old are you?’

‘Twenty-six,’ came the sullen reply

‘Time you made your own place Insist It’s not their fault you’re standing here, Yvette’

Still she hesitated The truth was, it was comfortable there Cold, lonely someti was easy for hirant, his , he wasn’t ent He’d never understand how hard it was for her

As Ga tea, he asked Yvette Nichol to walk him to his car

‘I want to thank you for what you did I kno painful it is to deliberately put yourself outside the group’

‘I’m always outside,’ she said