BASH

The door swings open. My eyes land to the redhead old version of Trinity. She looks stressed, but she sees me. Her eyes widen, and her contorted face lights up like a girl staring at the Christmas tree.

Aunt Zoey launches herself to me and hugs me tightly. I always call her aunt even we aren’t blood-related since Trinity and I grew up together.

“Thank God you’re safe! No one answered my calls when I tried to ask if the news was true,” she says after pulling herself away. She wipes her tears on her face then gives me a peck on my cheek. “Please come in, Bash.” She...