“These are my parents, Henri and Adele.” They traded cheek-to-cheek kisses and then quick hugs with her. They then each greeted Peter similarly, though without the hugs.
Geneviève had her mother’s hair and fine features, and her father’s length, that was easy to see.
“These are my sisters. They are both pills.” A pair of brunettes came forward. They showed none of their Vietnamese heritage. Both would have been taken as French natives, fair-skinned and round-eyed.
“I’m Helaine. That is Dr. Ngô Helaine, M.D.” Her English was American and reflected little of her native languages. “UCLA and University of Washington. And she only hates us because we are better than her. I work at the main hospital in Vinh. A hundred kilometers toward the coast. My husband, a doctor too, is in surgery. He se
