My Son’s Warning at the Airport Changed Everything

past, orange and soft. The freeway was emptier, the sound of tires on asphalt a steady hiss. Kenzo fell asleep in the back seat, his dinosaur backpack hugged tight against his chest like armor.

I kept checking my mirrors, paranoid, expecting headlights to follow. Every car that merged behind me felt like a threat.

When I reached Sweet Auburn, the neighborhood continue reading …