“That’s Nimm’s house. She lives there with her daughter,” Orlu said.

“Daughter?” she asked. She’d assumed the woman lived alone.

“Hey!” someone yelled from behind them. “Orlu! Who’s the onyocha?”

“Good Lord,” Orlu groaned. “Will the drama never end?”

Sunny whirled around. “Don’t call me that,” she said before she got a good look at the girl. “I hate when people call me that. Do I look like a European? You don’t even know me!”

“Seen you around,” the girl said. She was fine-boned, dark brown, and elfin, but her voice was loud and strong and arrogant. So was her smile. She wore an old-looking red, yellow, and blue dress and no shoes. She swaggered over to Sunny and they stood there, sizing each other up.

“Who are you?” Sunny finally asked.

“Who are you?” the girl retorted. “Did someone run you over?”

Orlu sighed loudly, rolling his eyes. “Sunny, this is Chichi, my neighbor. Chichi, this is Sunny, my classmate.”

“How come I’ve never seen you at school?” Sunny asked, still irritated. She dusted off her hopelessly dirty clothes. “You look around our age, even if you are kind of… small.”

“I’ve never needed your stupid school.” Before Chichi could say any more, she and Orlu exchanged a look. “And I’ll never tell you my age. I could be older or younger than you. You’ll never know, even if you are half ghost and half human.” She smirked, looking Sunny up and down, obviously itching for a fight. “Even when you speak Igbo you don’t quite sound Igbo.”

“That’s my accent. I’m American,” Sunny said through gritted teeth. “I spent most of my life there. I can’t help the way I speak.”

Chichi put her hand up in mock defense. “Oh, did I hit a sore spot? I am so sorry.” She laughed.