The next morning, Izan moved slowly through the living room, brushing his fingers along the edge of a shelf where a row of framed photos still stood.
He stopped in front of one where his grandparents were younger, smiling at the camera with the same warmth that had greeted him the night before, and then his mother on a seat beneath them in the same photo.
"Now I can see where Hori got that smirk," he muttered, with his phone pressed to his ear, speaker low and Miranda's voice coming through.
"What did you say?" she said as Izan shook his head.
"Nothing."
A little silence reigned for a while before Miranda's voice came over the phone again.
"So, before you disappear on me again," she said, "I've got two things. First is a brand opportunity here in Japan. They reached out this morning. And second, the FA wants to know if you'll meet their U21S and U18S. Some kind of combined pitch session. They want you to run a few drills, talk to the boys, that sort of thing."
