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.

and stared out the window, lost in thought.

As we arrived at an abandoned factory in Flint, the rusted gate loomed like a tombstone, and broken windows stared at us like hollow eyes. The air was thick with the smell of dampness mixed with something far more sinister, like gasoline and history forgotten. My heart thudded in my chest as we stepped onto continue reading …