julian
The noiseinside Simone’s house was thick, pots banging, water running, Simone and Alyssa fussing over who was going to do the dishes. Taryn talking over everybody, like always.
I slipped out to the porch for some air. Raschad was already there, leaning on the railing with a beer in his hand, watching Micah and Zhaire chase each other around the yard.He glanced at me when the door closed behind me, with a smirk tugging at his mouth.
“So. You and Alyssa good now, after she lit into you at practice?”
I settled beside him. “Water under the bridge. I wasn’t offended.”
He huffed a laugh. “She doesn't hold back. Don't take it personal. Alyssa's been through heavy shit. That's just armor.”
Raschad took a long pull from his beer. The silence stretched comfortable between us, filled with the sound of the boys laughing.
“You know she's a widow,” he said quietly.
I didn’t turn my head.
“Husband was killed a few years back. Messy situation.”
I kept my eyes on the boys in the yard.
He shook his head. “Man was a snake. Cheating, stealing, living a whole double life. She found out the worst way possible. Cops at her door. News crews camping out front. Her whole life turned into gossip for people who never met her.”
My grip on the railing became tighter. I made it loosen and took a slow breath in through my nose. Let it out the same way. I didn't know what to do with the fact that this was making me angry when I hardly knew her.
“Took some convincing,” Raschad said. “But now she's here. She needed to get out of Jersey. Start fresh, find her footing.” He shook his head. “She's stubborn as hell, Jules. Got a lot of pride. Too much of it sometimes. She'll never ask for help, but that doesn't mean she doesn't need it.”
I nodded, still saying nothing.
“I'm telling you allthis because I might need your help.”
I looked at him. “Help with what?”
“You know I got that NBA season commentating gig. It's gonna have me traveling a lot over the next few months, two weeks at a time, sometimes. I know you, Zion, and Tre will look out for Simone and the kids whenever they can't travel with me.” He looked at me sideways. “But… if you don't mind, I’d appreciate it if you could look out for Alyssa and Micah too? Help her get settled, check in to make sure she’s not drowning trying to do everything alone.”
I had no business feeling happy that another man was asking me to look after his sister. “Not a problem. I can handle it.”
He nodded like he’d expected my response, but I could see the relief settle into his shoulders anyway. “Appreciate it, Jules. And I'll talk to her. Make her promise not to cuss you out again.”
“I can handle that too.”
He grinned, “I know you can.”
My house was tooquiet when I got back. Normally I liked that. Peace and quiet were my favorite sounds, but tonight my mind was running laps. Raschad's words stayed with me.Widow. News crews.He'd said it like it was common knowledge I should've already known. I didn't. And now, I couldn't stop thinking about it.
I pulled out my phone, told myself not to, then I typed her name in the search anyway. The first headline popped up:
Attorney's Husband Killed in Cheating-Murder Scandal.
I sat forward. The story laid itself out in pieces over the next hour as I kept scrolling through articles. Her husband shot in his mistress's bed. The mistress's husband on trial. The bank embezzlement and fraud. The five women who came forward in the months after, exposing him as a systematic predator. He’d used his position to seduce and exploit female employees across branches, embezzling nearly two million dollars. The nickname the press gave him:The Corporate Casanova.
The deeper I scrolled, the worse it got. Years of Alyssa’s life turned into public entertainment. I came across a photo of Alyssa, standing somewhere with cameras in her face, and Micah clinging to her side. Her eyes were dark, face carved out of stone, holding ittogether. Every story said the same thing when it came to her.Alyssa Carter declined to comment.
She never said a word. Not once.
The financial fallout was devastating. Crime clips on YouTube showed her husband had forged her signature on loans, credit cards, and property, destroying her credit, leaving her with hundreds of thousands in debt. A trail of financial abuse that continued even after he was dead.
Having seen enough, I set my phone down and leaned back on my couch. She'd been through hell. Publicly. Had her marriage dissected by strangers, her judgment questioned, and her trauma turned into entertainment.
