Boom. The hourglass flips. One minute on the clock and I need to get as many pieces down as possible on the Rummikub board. Mi abuela wears a smug grin on her face as she watches me struggle to put down a piece. Shoot, she can go out in the next round. I need to mess up the board. Like an advanced puzzle, my pieces pop into place as I imagine shifting the board’s pieces to fit my blue seven, red one, and black twelve. As I rearrange pieces, the noise level of the room builds into an uproar of English screams mixed with Spanish exclamations. In one corner, mi abuela shakes her head in disbelief, in the other corner my 8-year-old sister yells for my turn to end and my 6-year-old cousin screams in Spanish. Everyone in the room, regardless of their native language and age, could see that I ruined their plans. 

As the last piece of sand hits the bottom of the hour glass, I complete my turn, with still just three pieces left.  I might have a shot at winning yet! 

I begin pondering my next move as mi Abuela mixes the game board, rearranging all of my previous rearrangements. Despite the new furrow in her brow as she meets my gaze, I feel more loved and at home than I would anywhere else in the world.