“Yusef—”
“I gotta go, or I’ll be late.” But he was looking at me weird. Studying my face.
“You okay? You look…”
“I’m fine, baby. Just tired.” I stood, moving to the kitchen even though my hands were shaking. “Come eat something before you go.”
“I’m not really hungry.”
“Yusef, you need to eat?—”
“I said I’m not hungry!” He snapped, then immediately looked guilty. “Sorry. I just… can I go? I need to catch up with Nigel before school starts.”
“Okay. But I’m serious about switching you to a different school. After this year, we’re moving somewhere better.”
“You keep saying that.” His voice was flat.
“I mean it. I promise.”
He nodded but didn’t look convinced. Just grabbed his backpack and headed for the door.
“I love you,” I called after him.
“Love you too.”
The door closed and I was alone.
And then I broke.
Slid down the kitchen cabinet, buried my face in my hands, and sobbed. Deep, ugly, terrified sobs that I’d been holding back since Prime sent me home.
What if someone found out? What if they traced Larry back to me? What if Prime couldn’t really fix this, and I ended up in prison, and Yusef ended up in foster care or worse?
I couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t think past the panic.
Three hard knocks on my door made me jump.
I froze. Heart pounding. Police?
“Open the door, Zahara.”
Prime.
I scrambled up, wiping my face even though it was useless. Opened the door.
He stood there looking like he hadn’t slept either. Eyes bloodshot. Jaw tight. Still wearing the same clothes from last night.
“Why you crying?” His voice was rough. Demanding.
“I just—I can’t stop thinking about?—”
He walked in, not waiting for an invitation, and kicked the door shut behind him. His hands gripped my face, his eyes boring into mine.
“What did I tell you last night?”
“That you’d handle it.”
“So why the fuck you in here falling apart?” His grip tightened. Not painful, but firm. Possessive. “Why you not trusting me?”
