SEVEN“Auntie Ny!”
“Hi, sweetie.” Hezekiah grabbed Anaya around the knees. His Spider-Man t-shirt was too small, and he proudly wore a milk mustache. He locked the door after Anaya stepped inside and followed her into the living room. Anaya yelped as she almost scraped her Prada pumps on a fire truck.
Large plastic bins were everywhere, and a stack of laundry lay untouched on the couch. Family pictures lined the walls, including one of her mom above the fireplace. Ava’s house was lovely—when it was clean. The eggshell colored molding, large bay window, and high ceilings made the place feel much bigger than it actually was.
Anaya made her way carefully over to the couch. “Who said you could open the door, sweetie?”
“Mommy said I could.” He was a miniature version of Joe except much, much
