They were absolutely right. If Kennedi thought she dodged a bullet by calling me instead of Khloe, she had no idea the storm she just summoned.
I looked back out at the convention floor where my dad was still shaking hands like the world wasn’t spinning. My wife was at home alone sick. My daughter sneaking around. My grandfather in ICU. And I was standing there in a suit, pretending I had everything under control.
I adjusted my jacket and forced a smile.
One thing at a time. One fire at a time.
My Dad appeared out of nowhere like he always did. He had Kemi walking beside him, one hand at her back guiding her through the crowd. He’d known her since she was young so he looked at her as family.
“Kairo,” he said, grabbing my arm. “You ride back to the hotel with Kemi. Me and your brothers have a couple more people to speak to. We’ll be about thirty minutes behind you.”
Kendrix groaned. “Thirty minutes in his time is two hours.”
Kross dragged a chair over and dropped into it like his body was shutting down in real time. His eyes were bloodshot red. Rivah and pregnancy life were wearing him out and he didn’t even carry the baby.
Kordai was leaned against the wall laughing at my brothers. “Y’all funny as fuck.”
“Kordai ass high from that edible,” Kendrix said, ready to go.
I shook my head, laughing. “We’ll see y’all at the hotel.”
I guided Kemi toward the foyer where the Uber was waiting. We slid into the backseat making small talk about the event.
“That man from Chicago would not stop talking,” she said, shaking her head. “And at least three different men asked if I was married.”
I laughed. “That sounds like them.”
She smirked. “It’s crazy. Rich men see a woman in a fitted dress and lose their minds.”
I just laughed, looking out the window and she turned toward me. “Okay. What’s wrong?”
I sighed and leaned back against the seat. “Kennedi.”
“What happened?”
I told her about the phone call. About Brooklyn’s mom calling me instead of Khloe. About how mad I was. About how I knew Khloe would spiral once she found out.
“First thing,” she said gently, “breathe.”
I exhaled through my nose.
“She’s almost sixteen,” Kemi continued. “Curiosity at that age isn’t always rebellion. It’s also development.”
I stared at her like she was drunk.
“I’m not saying she was right,” she added. “But don’t approach it like she committed a crime. Approach it like she tested a boundary.”
“She lied,” I muttered.
“She hid,” Kemi corrected. “There’s a difference. Kids lie when they’re afraid. They hide when they don’t feel safe telling the truth. She told the truth about going to her friend's house, she just hid the truth about her also going so she could meet up with a boy.”
“She knew her mom would flip,” I said.
“Exactly,” Kemi replied laughing. “Which is why she called you. Give her some grace. Grace doesn’t mean no consequences. It means consequences with conversation.”
I ran a hand down my face. “I just don’t want her out there doing dumb shit.”
“She will,” Kemi said plainly.
