Two Black SUVs Rolled Into My Aunt’s Backyard

Someone would ask what I did for a living.

Before I could answer, my mother usually smiled and answered for me.

“Olivia works behind a desk in Washington.”

Then she’d shrug.

“Mostly paperwork.”

Across the picnic table, my younger cousin, Tyler, would receive a completely different introduction.

“Our Marine.”

“Our warrior.”

“The toughest kid in the family.”

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