The jet lag was a thick fog in my head. Then I saw the red sticker, a violent slash of color against the glass of my own front window. SOLD. My key wasn't under the mat. The porch light I'd wired myself two weekends ago stuttered on and off, a frantic, silent warning. The front door swung open before I could even try the knob. My sister leaned against the doorframe. She had a tan. Behind her, in the hallway of my house, sat my parents’ luggage. Airline tags with bright, tropical flowers still da