Page 35 of The Wright Man

Gavin said it was my fault. Some days, I agreed with him. Most days, I just couldn't breathe.

My fingers had gone numb by the time I set the eggs down. I counted to five. Inhaled through my nose, out through my mouth. Didn't help.

The silence in my kitchen felt like a trap.

No music playing. No Gavin. Just me and a cutting board full of chopped chocolate, and the kind of silence that settled in your chest like sediment. Heavy. Still. Sunk.

I leaned on the counter, staring at the stand mixer like it would mend my broken heart.

I could still hear Gavin's voice from that night, cold as ice as I lay in the hospital bed: "I told you not to fucking go."

He hadn't looked at me the same since.

I swallowed hard and reached for the heavy cream. Blinked the terrible memories away.

The cake wasn't gonna make itself.

I cracked the eggs. Measured the sugar. Lined the cake pans like muscle memory. The silence in the kitchen stretched, but it wasn't peaceful—it was tight. Tense, like the air just before a summer storm.

As I tried to focus on the recipe, on the scent of cocoa blooming in hot butter, my mind kept tripping over itself. Over Gavin. Over Maleek.

Over the little one I'd never get to bake this cake for.

The bowl slipped in my grip for half a second before I caught it. My eyes burned, but I didn't cry.

I just stirred.

The cake would be perfect.

Everything else could fall apart later.

Chapter Six

Angelica

When They Were 14…

The auditorium buzzed like a beehive full of overstimulated teenagers and underpaid teachers. Freshman orientation. First day of high school. The air smelled like over-waxed floors, nerves, and somebody's off-brand body spray. I stood near the edge of the bleachers, clutching the handle of my tote bag like it was armor, heart beating like a drumline.

I was excited. Nervous, but mostly excited. I'd spent the last three weeks triple-checking my class schedule, trying on outfits in the mirror with Tina squinting like a stylist on a reality show, and letting Ms. Dana experiment with my hair until the style was so flawless I almost didn't recognize myself. It felt like a new beginning. Like the girl who'd been teased and overlooked for years had finally stepped into her own.

Maleek stood beside me, quiet as always, leaning against the rail like he wasn't even paying attention. But I knew him better than that. His eyes scanned the crowd, watching everything. Cataloging it. Protecting me in his silent, subtle way.

I nudged him with my elbow. "You think they'll let us leave early if we promise to be good?"

I made an exaggerated innocent expression, all big eyes and pouted lips.

His lips twitched. "Nah. They gon' keep us locked in here till they finish reading every rule they know we're about to break."

I giggled. The sound surprised me. It felt good to laugh, especially with him.

He tilted his head, studying me in that quiet, careful way he always did. "You know everybody's lookin' at you, right?"

I huffed. "They've been looking since we walked in. Like I sprouted a third tit over the summer."

He chuckled, deep and amused as he placed both hands on the back of his head. "Nah. You just glowed up on they ass."

I shot him a look. "Glowed up?"