“Don’t trust the square.”
At the time, it made absolutely no sense.
My sister Ava had slipped the folded piece of paper into my hand as we hugged goodbye at the airport. I laughed when I opened it.
“What does this even mean?” I texted her.
No response.
I assumed it was one of her usual jokes. Ava had always been mysterious, always speaking in riddles and inside jokes that only she understood.
