The evening air hung thick with the city’s low hum, a stark contrast to the quiet tension inside Marcel’s home. “Marcel! I’m serious; you got to be home before six… no at least by five pm, otherwise you should stay in.” Her mother, Ruby, wrung her hands, her voice edged with an old, familiar fear.

“Not this again. Mom, I already told you, the band is playing tonight, I won’t be home until ten… besides, I’m twenty-one, not eight. When are you going to stop trying to scare me with your silly superstitions?” Marcel rolled her chestnut brown eyes, impatiently waiting for the conversation to end.

Ruby sighed, a sound heavy with helplessness, watching her daughter’s petite figure quickly disappear out the door. It had been almost two months since Mike, Marcel’s twin, had died, and her father had been driven to insanity. Marcel’s transformation from shy to rebellious felt like another wound.

Later, in Nate’s car, the topic resurfaced. “M, are you sure it’s okay for you to be out tonight? I thought you and your mom would be preparing for…”

“Nate, don’t you dare start with that nonsense too. I told you already, I don’t care about those ridiculous traditions.” Marcel snapped, the words sharp as she hopped into the passenger seat, anxious to get as far away from her home as possible.