That made me let out a soft chuckle even though my heart felt heavy. “You sound just like him.”
She smiled. “I should. I introduced you two, remember?”
I shook my head with a laugh. “You introduced yourself to the wrong brother, that’s what happened.”
“And changed both our lives,” she replied.
There was a warmth between us that only came from decades. We weren’t just friends; we were grown women who lived whole lifetimes side by side. I could still see us at eighteen, barefoot in the school courtyard, laughing about boys and homework and dreams bigger than our pockets.
“You remember that day Kojo came to pick you up after class?” I asked.
Abeni’s smile softened even more. “And you rushed into the passenger seat like you belonged there.”
“And you dragged me right out,” I laughed. “Talking about ‘Treasure, that is my ride, not yours.’”
“You were too pretty to be trusted,” she teased. “Kwame told me that if he had seen you that day, you wouldn’t have even made it that far.”
I placed a hand over my chest, pretending to swoon. “And yet you fed me to him anyway.”
“You’re welcome,” she said, raising her glass.
But the laughter faded slowly, and my heart circled right back to where it had been for weeks.
“My son is in there,” I said lowly. “Locked in a cell, and the world is looking at him like he’s a monster.”
Abeni set her glass down and leaned forward, her eyes locked onto mine with a seriousness that felt like a hand gripping my shoulders.
“He is not a monster,” she said softly. “He is a Mensah.”
I felt her words all through me, but the fear still sat there, deep and unmoving.
“What if they kill him?” I whispered. “What if that man takes my child from me? What if we’re not lucky this time?”
Abeni reached across the table and took my hand into hers, her touch firm yet warm. She rubbed her thumb across my skin the way you do when you’re comforting someone you truly love.
“I will not allow that,” she said. “Kay’Lo will not die in that place. I promise you that.”
I stared at her, because when Abeni spoke like that… it wasn’t ambition, and it wasn’t ego. It was truth. She had the kind of power that didn’t need to shout, yet you still heard her loud and clear.
I nodded slowly, and my voice came out light. “I trust you.”
She squeezed my hand. “And I trust you with my whole life. You have carried my secrets. You have held me through storms I never told the world about. You have been my rock when I had none. Now let me be yours.”
The room felt warmer then, not from the lamps but from the bond I’d had with her for most of my life.
“Whatever must be done,” she said softly, “we will do it. We will protect our family. We will protect our Kay’Lo… and we will not lose.”
My eyes burned, but I held the tears back. I lifted her hand and pressed it gently to my cheek before letting go.
Abeni smiled in that elegant way she had. It was the kind of smile that could calm a shaking world.
“Treasure,” she said, “Kay’Lo is coming home, and when he does, he will know that his mother never stopped fighting for him.”
I closed my eyes and breathed in deep, letting her words settle in my bones the way comfort settles into a child’s spirit. And for the first time in weeks, hope didn’t feel so far away.
Abeni and I were still on the patio when Nyori walked in, talking before the door even closed behind her.
She entered the room the way only she could, with her wine already in her hand and her smile warm enough to brighten the whole space. It didn’t matter that she had been here a thousand times. She always greeted us like she was walking into acelebration. She kissed my cheek, then leaned over to kiss Abeni before settling gracefully into the chair beside her.
