I display my teeth in a grin. “Hi, fellas,” I say. Neither responds, although the one with dreadlocks has to suppress a twitch in the corner of his mouth.

A third man enters wearing an Atlanta Hawks cap, its bill stiff and cocked at an angle toward the ceiling, and a short-sleeve button-down so white it practically glows. He has a round face and a wide, expressive mouth that looks like it could hold a broad smile. Right now he isn’t smiling. He pays no attention to me but walks straight over to Mrs. Daniels. “Hey, Mama,” he says, bending to kiss her on the cheek. “How you doin’?”

“I’m fine,” Mrs. Daniels says. “This is Miss Faulkner. Says she wants to talk to you about her uncle.”

The man looks at me for the first time since entering the room. His expression is flat as a wall and just as welcoming. I nod at him from my seat on the couch, making sure my hands are on top of my knees, in plain sight.

“I don’t know you,” Peaches says. “Why you botherin’ my mama?”

I look at Mrs. Daniels, my eyebrows raised, then back to Peaches. “I’m not bothering her,” I say. “We’re just visiting. I’m having iced tea.”

The dreadlocked man unfolds his arms, bringing his hands closer to his waist. The larger man in the Braves jersey shifts on his feet.

Peaches speaks like he’s throwing down a challenge. “You ride into my hood and come to my mama’s house?”

I keep my breathing even, my hands still on my knees. Bring it, a voice like a lover’s whispers in my head. But I need to play this out, learn what I can from Peaches. “I had to find you,” I say, keeping my voice steady. “This was the quickest way I knew how.”

We all eyeball each other. It’s hard to tell because of his mirrored sunglasses, but I’m pretty sure Dreadlocks is checking out my breasts. Part of me wants to unzip the front of my jumpsuit just to fuck with him, but Mrs. Daniels would probably stroke out in her BarcaLounger. Instead, I raise my hands from my knees and then let them drop back down to my thighs with a soft clap. “Well,” I say, and I stand up, ignoring Dreadlocks’s alarm. “Mrs. Daniels, thank you very much for the tea.”

Everyone else stops moving, and for a second I think Dreadlocks is going to pull out that something stuck in his waistband. Then Peaches leans over to kiss his mother on the cheek again. “We goin’ out on the porch, Mama,” he says. “Let you go to bed.”

“All right,” Mrs. Daniels says. “I’ll see you tomorrow at the rec center.” She turns her gaze on me. “Miss Faulkner,” she says by way of goodbye.