Dadu has been making her rounds, and my youngest cousins follow her around like little ducklings. Any time she sits down, people trip over themselves to grab the seat next to her.

“Oh.” Fatima’s shoulders slump. “I needed to talk to her about...never mind.”

My brows knit. Fatima is usually my polar opposite—outspoken and confident. Seeing her despondent feels wrong.

“Can I help?” I ask.

Fatima’s mouth quirks. “I don’t think so, Myra. But thank you.”

“Let me know, though,” I say, playing with the gold churi on my wrists. “Even if it’s just to talk about whatever’s bothering you, I’m here.”

“I know,” Fatima says, smiling before her expression shifts. “Actually, there is something I wanted to talk to you about.”

“Oh God, that’s not a good sign,” I say, grimacing. “All right, hit me with it. What did I do wrong?”

Fatima shakes her head and bumps shoulders with mine. “You didn’t do anything wrong. Relax. I was just curious—there was a boy on your Instagram the other day...are you finally breaking away from your goody-two-shoes reputation?”

“I don’t have a goody-two-shoes reputation,” I say calmly, even as my heart starts racing.

Some of my most-trusted cousins follow me on social media, only because I know none of them would ever do anything like what Sana did. Still, I didn’t expect Fatima to bring it up.

We all have things that go unspoken. Half my cousins post pictures in which they’re wearing shorts and crop tops, flaunting hidden tattoos and piercings, and even drinking or smoking—all things that are strictly forbidden by our parents—and I always silently like their posts and move on.

No one ever brings attention to the things we do behind our parents’ backs. And yet, here we are, talking about Ace anyway.

Fatima rolls her eyes. “Yeah, Myra, you do. You’re obviously not Sana over there, and thank Allah for that, but you definitely play by your parents’ rules a lot more than some of us.”

A lot of my cousins are more vocal about their displeasure when it comes to some of our restrictions. Samina, who wants to go to college in California and is being manipulated into staying in New York. Naureen, whose brother told their parents about her Filipino boyfriend—taking away all her freedom. Arun, who acts too feminine for his family’s taste and had all of his clothes and makeup thrown away without warning.

But it’s not always like that. There are so many wonderful Bangladeshi parents out there.