I’ve equated Jack to the sun since the moment I met him. Everything about him conveys brightness and warmth and light. In this moment, when he’s standing in my kitchen, standing as tall as he can with his eyes drilling into my uncle, his face flush with rage, I realize he truly is like the sun, in all its aspects. The sun isn’t always gentle and pleasant. In harsher, desert climates, it blazes and burns everything in its path, blinding in its fury and scorching in its power. That’s Jack right now, emanating a fierce kind of radiance as he stands there like a solar flare, aiming his devastating
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