My uncle got out of prison, and the whole family shut the door on him—except for my mom, who hugged him as if someone else were to blame.

filled the air. My dad was passed out in the living room—his snoring a low, constant rumble that made the walls shake. And there sat Ramiro, shrouded in darkness, his eyes shimmering like marbles under a layer of oil.

“It’s time,” he said suddenly, breaking the silence.

My mom looked up from her makeshift counting, shaken. “No, Ramiro.”

“Yes. They’ve continue reading …