My cheeks go hot, which hasn’t happened to me in years. Sometimes I’m shocked to hear my own voice, my words strong and clear and flowing. Who would believe the girl rattling off stats and details in front of a camera, for millions of viewers, used to hate reading in front of her classmates?

I look up to meet Ezra’s stare, and I know he’s remembering that day in Mrs. Clay’s class. I’d forgotten this kind of telepathy we share, seemingly conducting thoughts between our minds with nothing more than a glance. There’s a disconcerting intimacy to it that feels wrong when his mind isn’t mine. Neither is his face, which settled into a roughly hewn beauty that I can barely tear my eyes from, or the big body standing like a tree offering shelter. I’m not his to shield. He’s not mine to shelter. We’re not each other’s anymore.

I guess we never were.

“Wait,” I say, looking between my old friends. “So you guys stayed in touch?”

“Not until we ran into each other a couple of years ago at a teacher’s job fair,” Mona says.

“I was staffing the school,” Ezra says. “And there was Mona. She practically runs the place now.”

“Now, we know that’s a lie.” Mona tsks. “This one’s a control freak. It’s bad enough I have to put up with him at school. Then we bought houses next door to each other. Aiko’s a good neighbor, even if he isn’t.”

“Aiko’s your wife?” I ask, looking from him to Ezra to Mona. “Where is she tonight?”

His expression freezes and his eyes widen. “Oh. Aiko’s in Tanzania on safari,” he says. “She’s a photographer, but—”

“They’re not married,” Noah interjects. “Mommy says marriage is a social construct like gender and race.”

A tiny startled silence is broken by us three adults laughing. Noah divides a puzzled look between us.

“It’s not funny,” he says, his little face earnest. “It’s fact.”

“Noah’s right,” Ezra says, turning to me. “Aiko and I aren’t married.”

Damn the breathlessness that seizes my lungs. I assumed they were married when I saw the three of them at the funeral and heard Noah call her Mommy. But it doesn’t matter if he’s married or not. He’s taken.

“Just because they’re not married,” Mona says with a smile, “doesn’t mean you aren’t a family, right? Your parents have been together longer than a lot of married couples.”

“I know.” Noah grins, showing a missing tooth. “Mommy doesn’t want Daddy to put a ring on it.”

“And Beyoncé shall teach them the way that they should go.” Mona laughs.

“I didn’t realize you’d started a school,” I say. “That’s amazing, Ezra.”