Jasmine Carter stepped out.
My aunt. Twenty-six. The only sane branch on the family tree. The woman who sent us kids money when we were broke, who showed up when no one else did, who hugged us like her life depended on it.
And I hadn't seen her in four months.
Her eyes carried exhaustion—deep, carved-in stress that clung to her like a shadow. Shoulders tense. Jaw tight. Something had chewed through her peace these past months.
But then she saw us.
Me. Emma. Sarah.
And everything hardened in her expression cracked open. Light bloomed across her face. Joy surged so fast it looked painful. That weight evaporated like someone had opened a window inside her.
"AUNT JAZZ!"
Sarah was already moving to her, but I was faster, always faster now.
Three strides and I was on her.
Up close, the years collapsed into nothing.
