He tenses. I don’t flinch. “Maliek. Haines. Whatever you call him. I saw him in the hallway.”
He looks away for just a second, then back. “Okay.”
“Was he visiting you on a personal errand? Or is Ben involved in something you’re keeping me out of?”
He stands straighter. The faint smudge of shadow under one eye—his rib-bruised side—makes him look tired. I can almost smell the hospital med-gel, antiseptic. It unsettles me.
“What happened?” I demand.
Jav runs a hand through his hair. “Look—I told you he was meeting Kairo. He had questions about Ben’s future, yes. He asked to talk. That’s it.”
“And you let him in here. In your workspace. In front of the kids.”
He exhales. “He waited outside the classroom. We talked quietly for a minute. I didn’t think it was a huge deal.”
“Not a huge deal?” I echo, voice low. I lean in. “You introduced him to a kindergartner yesterday. You were volunteering at recess. Youletyourself be wrapped into this family picture you’re painting. And then someone with ulterior motives just strolls in and pries around your territory.”
He winces. “Ulterior motives? You don’t know his motives.”
“I know he doesn’t love Ben. I know he doesn’t belong here. At least—not in the wayyoudo.”
He lifts a brow. “You don’t trust me.”
I don’t say it. I feel it though. The words hang in the air between us.
He steps closer. I smell his cologne—scent of sandalwood and something metallic, like gunshot residue washed with soap. It hits me harder than expected.
“Kairo,” he says softly. “I’m doing this for you and him. For us.”
I mouth the wordus. Strange. Tinny. I clear my throat.
“You keep saying that,” I say. “But you still don’t trustmewith the truth.”
His face flickers. A moment of hesitation. Then he closes it. “I trust you.”
“Do you?” I whisper. “Because I caught a lie. I asked if you’d been back in the life. You said no. I know you lied.”
Silence.
He doesn’t answer. The weight of the unspoken thing presses down like the lid of an old tomb. My breath feels thick in my throat.
“Because if youareback in the life…” I lean forward, voice rising just enough to make my pulse thunder, “then you’redragging him in. And me. And our life. And I will not pretend to call that sacrifice anymore.”
Jav’s jaw sets. I see the flicker of anger in his eyes—not at me, but at the situation. The torn parts. The hidden corners.
“I’m not dragging you in,” he says. “I asked to be in.”
“You asked to be in because you were bored with out,” I spit. “You asked to be in because you found a soft landing. You asked to be in because you finally met someone who doesn’t want to rip you limb from limb the moment you slip.”
The room goes quiet. The only sound is the hum of the light, the flutter of the blinds, and my own ragged breathing.
He takes a step back. “That’s unfair.”
“I didn’t sayfair,” I say. “I’m sayingreal.”
His face softens. “Kai—I’m trying.”
I shake my head. The chair squeaks behind me as I push off the desk and walk toward the door.
