Santa Barbara, California
2010
That horrible night came and went like a blistering tornado, slicing through everything she’d known and loved. Maya, or as it was spelled by her parents when she was born, Mi Ah had only been seven years old that night. Her older sister, Yuna, was ten. When she closed her eyes, she could see them perfectly in her mind. Yuna stood a head taller than her with light mocha skin and freckles that seemed to stretch each time she smiled. Their smiles were similar, inherited from their Korean-American father who always looked so youthful whenever he did so. Both she and her sister inherited wild, kinky curls from their African-American mother who always tried her best to maintain it.
This was her blissful life.
“Should we keep the coffee table, Peter?” her mother
