I snap my jaw shut but I can’t stop the stare. She hobbles over to me and then reaches for my shoulder, using it as a brace to leverage herself down. Once she is settled she tucks her own legs under her and faces out to the vista. ‘Geez-us, I can’t make any move without sound effects now. That’s how you know you’ve gotten old, bub.’

‘True?’

‘That grandson a mine made me lie down in his back seat, scared he’d be seen takin me to a Thomson.’

Her brown eyes narrow on mine and I have to look away. The circles of blue around her irises just freak me out too much.

‘Bet you know why I come though, ay?’

I stay stock still except for a quick shake of my head.

‘Hmm, ya don’t? But my nephew told me you was tryna see me. I guess if you weren’t …’ She reaches for my shoulder again.

‘No, wait! I ah, I … Aunty, I don’t know how to ask you this.’ My head drops and I feel tears brim. The past is something none of the oldies discuss, not ever. Not unless they want to and you never bring it up first.

‘I know, bub, you lost your sister.’ With gentle hands she cups my chin and forces me to look at her. I didn’t expect to hear kindness from a Miller, especially not this one. She’s the one I’ve always pitied, not the other way around.

‘Please just … just say it’s not like before.’ I can’t quite bring myself to say it. I’ve had a horrible feeling growing inside me. That maybe it’s one of those things they whisper about at night, round fires circled only by women, and the ones who tell the stories hadn’t been there. Hadn’t experienced it. There is always someone who has it worse.

I am desperate for that not to be Laney. The dip of May’s mouth doesn’t bode well.

‘Please!’

‘I wish I could bub. Oh, how I wish—’

Pushing her hand away, I stand, shaking. ‘You’re wrong!’ I shout. My voice hits her like a smack and she does what most black women do when attacked – she comes out swinging.

‘You the one wanted answers. You the one went to a Miller for them. First Thomson in memory and first ever to name a Miller “Aunt” I bet.’ The harsh tones seem too strong to be coming from that frail body. ‘You face it now!’

I back away, which only makes her desperate.

‘She swimmin in the dark, lost in nuthin and not one person can pull her out. Not one!’ Spit flies from her mouth as she shrieks the last two words.

The solid presence of May Miller is fading and her ghost is chasing me backwards. I hit a solid object that sends me staggering. A hood, metal, car.