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“We’re here,” Omar says, and we turn into a drive that makes a half circle in front of a huge white brick house with black shutters and large windows on its façade. The front is lined with hedgerows, and the black lacquered front door is lined with bright pink flowers I don’t recognize. “This is so beautiful,” I sigh and unbuckle my seatbelt. “How could you bear to leave it?” I ask, genuinely amazed that he could.

“I guess I knew something better was waiting for me.”

“Aww, my love. Thank you.” I lean over the center console, and he meets me halfway. It was meant to be a light, quick kiss, but it’s the first time our lips have touched since we arrived, and my hunger for him is ignited. We linger on each other’s mouths, and every time one of us pulls away, the other pulls them back. The slam of the front door comes just as his tongue darts out to probe my mouth, and he groans.

“Later,” I whisper and take a deep breath before I face his family.

A small woman with long, dark hair and a glowing honey brown complexion a shade or two darker than Omar’s is rushing toward us. She’s waving a tea towel in the air and sporting a grin that I’d know anywhere—it’s the same as Omar’s from her fuller top lip and dimples to the way her nose crinkles at the same time. “Show time,” he says before he opens the car door.

“What does that mean?” I ask, but he’s out and grabbing his sister into a hug before I even finish my sentence.

I open my door and climb out. I hope he’s right. We didn’t talk about how we’d answer questions about my past. Despite what the record states, the fact that the people who know me best believe me has given me a sense of freedom from the stigma and shame I’ve walked around with.

But I’m not sure now what I’ll say if they ask about my parents.

“Layel—this is my heart. I call her Beat, but you can call her Jules.”

“Jules.” Layel cries my name like it’s a declaration and throws her arms around me. She’s several inches shorter than me, and I bend a little to hug her back. “Oh my God. My brother is in love, fucking finally. I’m so happy to meet you. You have to show me your ways because there’s no one he has ever called his love with that look in his eyes before.”

She lets me go but grabs hold of my hand. “Mar, my baby, you’re all grown up,” she says with pride on her face.

He runs a tender hand over her head. “Had to happen sometime.”

They exchange a smile and then she claps her hands together as if to commence a race. “Let’s get inside. Do you need help with your luggage?”

Omar shakes his head and heads to the back of the car. “No, I’ve got it. But you can take this.” He hands her the bag from Sweet and Lo’s.

She slaps him with the tea towel. “You didn’t. I’ve been cooking all morning.”

He scowls. “I’ll tell you what… I haven’t missed how deft you are with that towel.”

“Well, if you weren’t so naughty, I wouldn’t need to be,” she shoots back without any apology.

She drapes an arm around my waist. “I’ve always wanted a sister,” she says softly. And in a louder voice, “I hope you don’t get tired of his bad attitude and dump him.”

“You must be talking about yourself. No one has ever dumped me.”

“Only ’cause you didn’t give them the chance,” she says. She looks at me, grins, and winks. “Come on in. I’ll heat up whatever Sweet sent over since you’re hungry. Dad is coming over to eat, but he won’t be here for another hour.”

“I can wait,” I say and let her lead me inside. I was hungry when we arrived, but right now, I feel incredibly full.

CHAPTER 36

PRODIGAL

Omar

“The prodigal son returns,”my dad says and raises his glass of water in the air.

“What’s a prodigal?” Hannah asks from beside me.

“Someone who leaves their family for too long,” her mother answers.

“Oh yeah. Then that’s totally you, Uncle Omar.”

“And with a welcome like this, do you wonder why?” I tease. But their welcome has been more than warm. Layel’s house is right next door to mine, and she’s run back and forth between the two houses to get things she needed to make lunch.

I asked why we didn’t just eat at hers, and she said she wanted my first night in my house to feel like home. It’s as sparsely decorated as the house in London was when I first moved in, but since we’ve been here I’ve been making a note of all the things it needs. Jules is at the top of it.