“I did,” Zoriah insisted. “You be on your phone or talking to Ms. Kristy.”
Truth coughed into his fist, failing to hide his laugh. Even I had to smile.
“What’s her name? You ask her?” inquired Ajani.
Zoriah nodded eagerly. “She told me her name Aziza. I call her ZiZi. She call me ZoZo.”
For a second, I thought I heard her wrong. My heart stopped. It just stopped, then slammed back to life.
“Say that again,” I heard myself say. My voice sounded wrong, tight, tense.
“Aziza,” she sang. “Uncle Jay, why you looking like that?”
Every adult in the room was looking at me. Because they all knew what had me stuck. My full name was JabaliAziziChristopher, a name Kyleigh had told me she loved often. Mama picked that middle name on purpose. She said it meant “precious” or “beloved,” depending on which book she had. My pops called it my “name behind my name.” Outside the family, barely anybody knew it, and here it was, flipped just enough to be a girl’s name, sitting on a child on the other side of Kyleigh’s fence?
My mouth went dry. “How old is she, baby?” I asked. I tried, but it still came out rough.
“Same as me. She said she nine. But she little. I’m taller than she is.”
Nine.
Ten years since that Thanksgiving break… minus nine months of pregnancy.Nine-years-old. Heat rushed through me so fast I saw spots.
“That means Kyleigh left here with my baby, a baby that got my damn middle name,” I spat.
“Don’t jump to conclusions, man. I thought that was the other lady’s baby. That’s the only person I’ve seen her with. Well, Mr. Benton drives her places sometimes,” Braeden reasoned.
I shook my head, laughed once, sharp and bitter. “Nah. Aziza? Aziza and Azizi? Come on, man. Y’all hear that. Y’all know what that is. Much as she hated me when she left, why else would she do it?”
“Even Zo just said she be outside with Ms. Serena. I’ll bet Ms. Serena her mama,” he argued.
“No, Uncle Brae! Ms. Serena her teacher. Her mama be busy writin’ her books,” Zoriah commented.
She didn’t even look up from her gingerbread as she blew up my world. Somehow, I was on my feet. I didn’t remember standing up.
“Jay,” Truth said quietly.
Rage hit me so hard then my hands shook. Ten years of not knowing slammed into me in one second. I started for the door.
Zahara jumped in front of me, palm to my chest. “Uh-uh. Where you going?”
“Where you think?” I snapped. “Up that hill. She got my child behind a fence like a secret? For nine years? I’m not?—”
“Jabali. Stop.” Ajani’s voice cut through, low and commanding.
I wanted to ignore him. To do that, I had to run over Zahara, though, and I would never do that shit. My whole body buzzed. “Y’all don’t understand,” I said, breathing hard.
“You right, it looks bad,” Braeden said carefully. “Real bad. But you charging up that driveway tonight, banging on that door ain’t gon’ fix nothing. You know that.”
“She hid my baby from me,” I said. “For nine years.”
“Jay…. You hid yourself, too,” Honesty said, her voice soft but deadly.
That one sank straight in. She didn’t sound mean, just honest, like her name. Always like her name, even when it hurt.
“You left, too. You stayed gone. Took crazy missions and tried to forget everything. We couldn’t even get you to come home when Uncle Brady died. I’m not saying she right to keep that baby from you. Iamsaying she didn’t make this mess alone,” Honesty said.
Zahara cupped my face, forcing me to look down at her. “Listen,” she murmured. “I’m not on nobody side but that little girl’s. Not yours, not Kyleigh’s. That baby didn’t ask for none of this. If you go up there right now, banging on that door, yelling, you not hurting Kyleigh. You scaring that child.”
