They had started calling this trip their “college-moon.” My mother had been telling me for weeks that she couldn’t wait to land in New York City. Finally, the suitcases were stacked in the back of the Range Rover, my brothers, sister, and I settled in the back seat. Taytay and Abla were waiting outside as we pulled up to say goodbye. I had spent virtually all of my time with Taytay in those last few weeks, cooking and devouring all the dishes I loved like it was the last time I would ever eat them. Ali and Saeed jumped out of the car and disappeared into the house, where they would be staying while we were in America. I helped Inam from the car, held her chubby seven- year-old hand as she marched up the front steps. “She knows that if she fails any of her classes, she’ll be on the first plane home,” he said with a half smile. “Of course she is—she’ll be back in December,” my father said, no hint of worry in his voice.