It’s already dark when I pull up to my older auntie’s house, the driveway long as hell and quiet. I sit in the car for a second, debating, stomach lowkey tight like always. I don’t know why being around her makes me uneasy—she never did nothing wrong—but the feeling always there.

Before I can even knock, the door swings open.

“Why you sittin’ out there like that?” she says, squinting into the dark. “Boy, come on in.”

I step inside and the house smells expensive and warm. Lights dim, marble floors, everything shiny. She pulls me into a hug anyway, squeezing hard.