Sweet Jesus! Sweet, sweet Jesus!” Mom called to the Savior, caught up in the divine intervention that was Hank and me.

I narrowed my eyes at her. “Stop cal ing Jesus, Mom. Hank’s gonna think you’re weird,” I snapped.

“She is weird,” Dad said.

“I’m not weird,” Mom returned.

“You know, just sayin’, you said this shit to me like you just said it to me rat…”

“If you ever leave,” his voice had changed from soft to harsh, “I’ll find you an…”

“You know you’re Dad’s one-and-only, Tyra, and if you don’t know this, seeing as…”

“Sometimes home wasn't where you grew up. Home was where you were meant to be.”