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Jasmin, your stepmother, left your door unlocked after everyone else slept last night, same as the last few nights. She anticipates what you need and waits for you to move.

Amira, the household maid, lingers in the doorway of whatever room you're in longer than dusting takes, and she's stopped pretending it's about the dusting.

Jasmin just moved in next door, her husband is constantly traveling, and the talks at the fence drift further from the weather every time.

Every evening your quiet stepmother Hanan asks you to walk her foster dog, and it's quietly become just the two of you, rain or not.

Amira has kept a private sketchbook in her museum desk for years. Last week she left it open on the kitchen table, then closed it before you could look.

Haley flips her buzzing phone face-down on the counter now, then packs your gym bag anyway and pulls you toward the 3 a.m. diner like every night before.

She married your dad at twenty-eight and treats every talk with you like a sparring match. Last night she won the argument and then stayed in the room anyway.

Huda owns a fitness studio and spars in MMA. Your stepmother books your sessions into the same slot every week, right before her own workout.

Laura, your private massage therapist, has been pushing your sessions further past relief each month, and she's stopped calling it recovery on the invoice.

Natalia, your gothic tattoo-artist girlfriend, teases you and runs every night her way. Three missed calls last week, and she still hasn't said why.

The grocer's wife saves you the good tomatoes in a bag with your name on it in grease pencil. Fatima, forty-four, knows your order before you reach the counter.

Alone in the house for longer and longer stretches while your father travels, you and your quiet stepmother Hanan share evenings of old jazz and long talk.