Liza let him take the phone. The truth was that she looked damned good tonight, like some Afrofuturist version of herself. Her hair was braided in a complex, elegant updo that left coils at her nape. LeDeya’s makeup job was dramatic: a cobalt cat eye with shimmery silver liner. Her earrings were the best part, an excellent knock-off of Beyoncé’s ear cuff, where the “diamonds” went from her earlobe up the curve of her ear. She kept trying to get them at just the right angle for the camera.

“Are you wearing that?” Liza asked her brother. She looked up and down at his outfit—a drab sweat suit with large headphones bulging out of the front pocket. “Ma is going to skin you alive.”

“Come on, this is for Granny. And I don’t want them to think they can just steal our Janae and that we’ll be good little minorities. This is a protest!”

“This is not a protest. This”—Liza pointed to his outfit—“is lazy.”

“Oh, no one can plan a protest but you? You’re the only one who can be political in the family?”

“Of course not! I would love it if you were political. Right now, I just think you’re being provocative for its own sake, and at Granny’s expense.”

“So I’m supposed to go there dressed like a damned chandelier?”

“Just come with a little respect for what Granny has done to beautify the neighborhood.”

Maurice huffed and pulled off his sweatshirt, revealing an I Can’t Breathe T-shirt. He groomed his beard in the mirror while Janae swished around nervously. She popped into Liza’s room and delicately put on her drop earrings. Liza noted her hand shaking slightly.

“Janae, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing, I’m just . . .”

“Nervous?” Liza finished.

“I think his mom and dad will be there.”

“So what?”

“So have you seen what Maurice has on? Have you heard Mama bragging to every person who will listen that I’m never working again? It’s terrible.”

“I know. But our family is our family. David knows that, and remarkably, he still loves you.”

“Loves?”

“Loves,” Liza assured her.

“I haven’t told him yet,” Janae whispered.

Liza only nodded. “Why not?”

“I’m afraid of the sadness finding its way into our relationship. Everything has been so fun and nice. I know if I tell him about my past, he’ll . . .” Janae trailed off.

“I think he can handle it, J. Trust him.”

“I will, just not now.” Janae shook her head, then expertly shifted the subject. “So are you excited to finally hang out with WIC? I say the texting isn’t enough. You guys have to see each other.”

“This is how excited I am to see him!” Liza pulled a condom out of her tiny clutch, and Janae burst into fits of laughter.

Maurice groaned.

“Girl, are you falling for this man?” Janae asked.