“So, you going to tell me what this is really about?” he asked when they’d sat together over plates of Raquellas enchiladas Oogas. They weren’t made with real Dread Oog anymore, but they smelled just as good. “And don’t, ‘Oh, Papi!’ me. Dour told me all about this beauty queen circuit stuff. Mariceilla, beautiful and talented as you are, this is not your scene, and Raquella, you’re playing at liking this, but I saw your face when Gloria wasn’t looking. You’re waiting for a fight.”

The ladies exchanged glances, mother daring daughter to speak. Marisol set down her fork. “Papa, things are changing on the Hood. My generation…and our kids. We’re seeing things differently…”