I can’t help but wonder why her parents are like this. I wish I knew how all five of Dadu’s sons ended up being so harsh and strict when she’s always been anything but. At least in my case, I know it’s because of my maternal side, but everyone else is a mystery. I wonder if this is why Dadu feels like she’s failing us. Because somehow, despite her best efforts, her sons turned out into exactly what she tried to avoid.

It’s easier for men, I guess. Traditional ways cater to them. But I would think—I would hope—being around Dadu would set them off those ways.

And yet here sits my cousin, as miserable as me. And here sit her parents, as hell-bent on shaping her into something she’s not as my own.

My phone buzzes in my pocket, and I glance at it quickly. thinking of u. text me if u feel up to it.

Ace’s words cause my heart to skip a beat. Lionheart, I think to myself, recalling the playlist that’s been on a loop in my head since yesterday.

A burst of adrenaline rushes through me and I say, “I think it’s really cool, what you’re doing.”

Fatima looks at me, eyes wide. I don’t think she expected me to say something. I wasn’t even expecting it. “Thank you, Myra.”

I nod and try to ignore the way her parents are staring at me. Fatima looks relieved. Even if my words result in blowback, it’s okay if I helped her feel better.

“And what have you been doing in school, Myra?” my aunt asks sharply. “Samir told us all about his robotics club. Are you in something similar?”

I should have expected that. “I’m in Pre-Med Society,” I say, the words heavy on my tongue.

“I see,” my aunt says before turning her gaze toward my brother. “Samir, won’t you tell us about your last competition? Your mom said you guys came in first.”

“Of course, Pooja Auntie,” Samir says with a grin. “I actually have a competition tomorrow, too, but I’m not as worried as last time. I really thought we’d lose.”

I roll my eyes. I remember his last competition. He didn’t look distressed. In fact, he looked as confident as ever.

“Oh, don’t be silly, Samir,” Mustafa Uncle says, clapping him on the back. “You’re on the track to MIT at this rate. Making the whole family proud.”

“I was actually thinking of CalTech,” my brother says, sudden affliction passing across his face. He chews on his bottom lip and asks, “Do you think Ma and Baba will let me go?”

“I don’t see why not,” Pooja Auntie says, smiling widely. “You’re such a bright young boy. It’s nice to see someone in this family take initiative.”