Physical affection was far from my forte. My own mother would have rather spit on me than hug me, and while Niko had done a commendable job of raising me on his own, he wasn't exactly handsy, either. Even so, after a moment of awkwardness, I lifted a hand to cradle the back of Sarah's head and sighed.

Did I mention that this was really fucking bad? Because it was seeming worse by the fucking minute.

"I'm almost 22, mom," I replied, going for levity.