Then, she pulled me into another hug.
“Alright,” she said. “If you doing this, then I got your back. You know that, right?”
“I know.”
“Good.” She pulled back and smiled. “Now let me see what else you got in this bag.”
I watched her pull out the rest of the clothes, her face lighting up with every piece.
And for a moment, I let myself forget about the contract.
About Amai.
About the baby I was about to carry.
For a moment, I was just Truth.
Standing in my sister’s messy living room.
Watching her smile.
And that was enough.
Chapter 7
AMAI
The hot water hit my shoulders, and I closed my eyes, letting the steam fill my lungs.
My knuckles were still raw from Phillip’s face.
Blood—his blood—swirled pink down the drain, mixing with soap and the last remnants of adrenaline that hadn’t burned off yet.
I braced my hands against the tile and let the water pound against the back of my neck.
I should’ve been thinking about Rahsaan.
About the docks.
About the shipment Priest said was two days late and the fact that Rahsaan’s people were getting bold enough to test boundaries I’d drawn in blood years ago.
But I wasn’t thinking about any of that.
I was thinking about Truth.
The way she’d looked at me in the car—eyes wide, strawberry Fanta dripping down her face, humiliated and furious and trying so hard not to cry.
The way she’d stood beside me in the street and beat Destiny’s ass without hesitation.
No fear.
No judgment.
Just raw, unfiltered loyalty to herself and—whether she knew it yet or not—to me.
I ran my hands through my hair, water streaming over my face.
Most women I knew would’ve run.
