Eiera

i. "So where are you from?" The boy leans toward me, questions swimming in his eyes. I smile. "Oh, I'm from Boston." "No, I mean, where are you from?" My smile falters as I realize where this is going. It's an all-too familiar conversation, one I've been having since I was old enough to reply. "Do you mean where was I born?" "Yeah." "I was born in China." "Do you speak Chinese?" "No." "Does your family speak Chinese?" "No." He looks befuddled. I sigh. "I'm adopted." "Oh!" I see the light bulb over his head go off in a shower of sparks. "Do you know who your real parents are? Like, your real parents?" My temper flares. I stifle th