He finally taps the car and leaves to go back to his own and I can breathe again, even though everything aches.
I hate that these systems, all this institutional shit, can get to me. I hate how they have the power to kill my future, kill me. They treat my Black skin like a gun or a grenade or a knife that is dangerous and lethal, when really it’s them. The guys at the top powering everything.
If it isn’t Niveus that does it, any one of them could get us.
The guys at the top are bombs and explosives, killing millions, getting away with it.
“Need a moment?” Chiamaka asks.
I nod, sniffling now, not able to hold back the tears that escape, or the cries that leak from my mouth. I place an arm over my face, and I let myself go.
Chiamaka’s hand slides through mine and squeezes.
And even though I hate to admit it, I’m happy she’s here.
We are in the parking lot, surrounded by few cars, watching the Central News 1 building like we’re waiting for it to come to us, not the other way around.
“I’m scared,” Chiamaka admits.
Me too.
“Like you said, nothing to be scared of,” I reply. This is the only option we have left.
“Exactly… nothing.”
There’s a lot to be scared of, though. Who knows what’ll happen in there.
We sit in silence, waiting for the other to make the first move.
This is it.
Freedom.
36
CHIAMAKA
Wednesday
We walk into the building together. I take a deep breath, leading the two of us as we enter through the open double doors.This is it.
There’s a woman at the front desk whose blue eyes pierce into us as she looks up.
“Hi, how can I help you?” she asks. Her rubbery skin makes me a little uncomfortable.
“We have a meeting with Ms. Donovan.”
“What are your names, please?” She types something into her computer.
“Chiamaka Adebayo and Devon Richards.”
Her typing slows, and she glances up at us again.
“Okay, take a seat. Shouldn’t be too long.”
I sigh. Thank God. I was worried our meeting was canceled or hadn’t even been scheduled. I’m so used to everything going wrong lately.
We sit on the chairs on the opposite side of the front desk. I look at Richards. His eyes are closed, like he’s sleeping. I wish I could drift off and relax. But all I can think about is getting this right.
