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“You went somewhere last night.”

I knew what she meant. When I had told her mother that I would be right outside, that’s when I had gone over to Ms. Gia’s house.

“Yeah,” I answered.

“Where?”

“Ms. Gia’s.”

Her eyebrows pulled together. I looked away from her and back toward the parking lot.

“I went looking for Ghost.”

Maliah went still. I could feel her staring at me.

“Why?” she questioned.

There it was. The question I’d been avoiding since the hospital. I drew in a breath because if I was going to walk into Mr. Browne’s hospital room and tell him everything, I couldn’t keep standing in front of his daughter pretending I didn’t know anything. I looked at Mali.

“When I came outside after the shooting, I saw a black Camry pulling out.”

She waited for me to continue, and I hated saying the rest.

“Ghost was in it.”

The sleep disappeared from her face. For a second, she didn’t react at all. Her eyes stayed on mine as if she was waiting for me to tell her she misunderstood. But I didn’t because I couldn’t.

Slowly, she looked back toward the parking lot. I could see her thoughts roaming everywhere.

“He knows what kind of car I drive. So, he was shooting at me.”

It wasn’t a question. She said it as a statement, as if she had finally put the dots together, and she had. I didn’t answer. I didn’t need to. She already knew. Her eyes moved over the damage again, and I could see her remembering that car from the inside this time. Remembering bullets coming toward her while her father threw his body over hers. Fear started to paint her face, and instantly, I stepped closer.

“Mali…”

“My daddy got shot because that nigga wanted me dead.”

Her voice was different now. The fear wasn’t there, and neither were the tears. Those pupils were filled with anger. I understood it because I felt the same shit every time I thought about Ghost pulling that trigger. Maliah finally looked at me.

“Did you find him?”

“He was gone by the time I got to Ms. Gia’s,” I said as I shook my head.

“Did she know where he went?”

“She said no.”

Maliah looked away again. I didn’t tell her about the FBI. That conversation needed to happen with Mr. Browne first. This was bigger than Ghost shooting at that car, and I wasn’t about to start handing Mali pieces of something I hadn’t completely laid out for the man whose business could end up in the middle of a federal investigation. But one thing was clear: I couldn’t wait much longer.

“I gotta talk to your pops.”

Maliah looked at me again.

“About Ghost?”

“About everything.”

She studied my face, probably hearing the part I wasn’t saying. Normally, Mali would’ve pushed until I gave it to her. This time, she didn’t. She looked back toward the parking lot as the morning sun stretched farther across the pavement. Then she nodded.