** The rain tapped softly against the window as 8-year-old Zaria sat on her bed, staring at the packed backpack by her door. It was Friday, which meant it was time to leave her mom’s house and spend the weekend with her dad. Most kids looked forward to weekends. Zaria dreaded them. Not because she didn’t love her parents—she loved them more than anything. But ever since they broke up, it felt like she was living two different lives. At her mom Guest house, everything had a schedule. Homework before television. Bedtime at nine. Chores every Saturday morning. At her dad Marcus’s apartment, things were different. There were movie nights, pizza dinners, and no strict bedtime. It was fun, but sometimes it felt chaotic.**

He pulls into the driveway of the two story house and parks his car pulling out an umbrella walking to the front door ringing the doorbell.

Guest opens the door letting him in without saying anything to him.

Marcus grinned “damn ma can’t say hello anymore?.”