Maya

At 2:32 a.m., a message came in on the family LINE group chat from Mom. “This is the last one. Thank you so much for the past 31years.” The read receipts went up to 3 in an instant. My older brother is in Gabon, my older sister is in Senegal, and I’m in madagascar. Since Dad passed away five years ago, Mom has been home alone. She doesn’t answer no matter how many times I call. My sister said, “I’ll take the first train.” My brother said, “I’ll drive.” That was all. The bullet train took two and a half hours, and my hands were shaking the whole time. What does 31years even mean? It wasn’t the year they got married. What does she mean by “the last one”? I got to our family home just after 9 a.m. My older brother, who had arrived first, came out through the front door. “Mom’s just making breakfast like usual.” My older sister was in the kitchen, too. It was the first time the three of us had been together in five years, since Dad’s funeral. Mom, wearing an apron, turned around. “Oh. You, too. …Did something happen today?”