As it happened, my Aunt Jessica had waited for me out front, saying she didn"t want me dropped off by the police and have neighbors start rumors. She dropped me off in front of her house. We pulled up on Jones Street next to the two-story light sage green with white trim and a cozy wrap-around porch in the front. Vibrant blue hydrangeas hid the house"s first floor along Second Street (the word “street” is a joke, as it looks more like an up-scale alley), where we usually parked. The second floor was made up of windows with what I want to call a hooded roof. It made the upper floor windows look like they had eyebrows. I didn"t know the architectural word for it, but our bedrooms had slightly angled walls from about shoulder height to the low ceiling. It made hanging pictures a challenge, an
