Life would be so much easier if she lived here. There were no mysteries or fears in this house, in their church. Sometimes, Olivia cried when she did bad things and said things like now she wouldn’t get to go to heaven. No one heard a mysterious voice. If they did, they would go and see a doctor. Ayanna didn’t tell either of them about the door, even though sometimes her mother pressed her for more details. As far as her mother knew, the door had never opened and everything there was harmless and a little weird, but it was on her for falling in love with someone and having kids before getting real about things. Her mother tried to find ways to figure out what her daughter believed. Ayanna had been told several times by her father, her great-grandma who now lived back east, and her grandmother that telling her mom what was really going on might mean she could never see them again. Her mom regretted the custody agreement, was always looking, they said, for a reason to make things different. Grandma would sometimes sit next to Ayanna at the couch and say, “The courts hate Black men. They’ll take you from him.” There were so many things Ayanna knew and understood to keep inside herself.

Her mom’s house, where almost every room was painted white or gray, where there were two portraits of Jesus, one original-flavored, a.k.a. white with sad big blue eyes, and another one where he was brown and laughing while wearing a red robe and handing a child a loaf of bread. The house always smelled like cinnamon-spice candles. The only room not gray or white was Ayanna’s, painted a shade called “champion cobalt,” and only because her grandmother had read an article that claimed children with blue rooms were more creative and calmer. In this house, they talked about spelling and watched PBS Kids shows and baked uneven cakes when good news happened. Mom oiled Olivia’s hair and taught her things to worry about, like edges and ashy elbows and being good at math and laughing at boys’ jokes to cover awkward moments. You lived and you died in this house, and that was how you wanted it to be because if you were very good, death meant a beautiful reward was waiting for you.

Because she spent most of her time with her father, it felt like her mom sometimes worried more about making sure Ayanna liked her and was close to her sister than actually telling her things about the world. It felt easier, but there were never times like when she was with her dad, where she could look at him and just feel her body relax.