“Sit down,” his mother tells him, and Alex feels dread coil deep in his stomach. He has no clue what to expect – knowing your parent as the person who raised you isn’t the same as being able to guess their moves as a world leader. He sits, and the silence hovers over them, his mother’s hands folded in a considering pose against her lips. She looks exhausted. “Are you okay?” she says finally. When he looks up in surprise, there’s no anger in her eyes.”
