Page 55 of Butterfly 6, Phase 1

“Alani’s daughter,” Morgan whispered as she swiped a lone and stubborn tear. “You blame me for her and the guilt I’ve felt since the night it happened…” Morgan gasped. “It kills me!” she sobbed aloud, breaking down. “You were right. I should have never been anywhere near Lucas that night. When the therapist asked me about my rape, it all just came out. I put you at risk, and I was afraid to tell you that. I stayed as long as I could. The only reason I was with Bash for so long was because of what he had on you. I was afraid to lose you. I was afraid that you’d hate me. You were happy. You deserved to be happy and I…”

Ethic swiped his hand down his chin, sighing as her confessions circled in his mind, and he reached for Morgan’s hand. “Nobody is to blame for that beautiful little girl’s death except me,” Ethic said. “I remember how I came home that night, Morgan. I was wrong.” Morgan sobbed, looking down and then out the window.

“Mo,” Ethic said, commanding her attention. “I was wrong. It was never your fault. You hear me?” His voice wasn’t loud; it held no softness. It was tired, worn down by the reality of the action that would send him to the devil eventually. Ethic swallowed the lump in his throat as he fixed his eyes ahead, but he couldn’t see anymore—tears he held back clouded everything. Ethic remembered the feeling of his heart stopping that night, like Kenzie’s death had resulted in his own. The sound of the gunshot erupted in his mind like someone was holding a pistol to the back of his head in real time. She was in the wrong place at the worst moment of my life, he thought miserably.

He remembered the gun going hot in his hand like a hot iron to human flesh, like it didn’t even belong in his palm anymore.

“I should have been home…”

“You should be able to exist anywhere without a man violating you. A woman doesn’t put herself in a position to be raped. I don’t know what the fuck I was thinking, Morgan. I’m not a perfect parent, and I parented you wrong that day. After that night, something in me broke. It was a sin that I couldn’t justify. I should have never put that on you. She died in my arms, Mo, and I…” Ethic stopped speaking. The car was suffocating him. It was too small to hold the sin that rotted inside of him. Ethic squeezed the steering wheel, knuckles blanched, as that night replayed in his mind. Morgan was so tense she could barely breathe. It didn’t feel appropriate to breathe when Kenzie no longer could. “I haven’t been this affected by anything since Raven. I should have been more careful, in both circumstances. It was never your fault. You were a victim that night. I pulled that trigger, and that moment didn’t just take her, it took something out of me that I’ll never get back.”

“Lucas was abusing Alani’s daughter, Ethic. It wasn’t your fault,” Morgan defended.

“And if I was more careful that night, I could have defended you and saved her, too. My rage led me to recklessness, and I’ll spend the rest of my life carrying her with me. The guilt is mine. Release it, Morgan,” Ethic said, bringing Morgan’s hand up to kiss her knuckles and then reaching across the car to pull her close, kissing the top of her head. “I’m sorry.”

Morgan didn’t know how badly she needed to hear those words from Ethic. He released her from a haunting that had subdued her subconscious for years, but it bothered her that he would feel this forever. She was a victim, but she was grown now. She could see how her actions contributed.

“We all should have been at home that night. I’m sorry that I wasn’t home in the safety you provided. I didn’t appreciate what a luxury just making it home safely is back then. I chose to be in the streets that night, and it cost you and Alani greatly. I know it’s not my fault, but still, it needs to be said. Thank you for putting up with me all these years, Ethic. If I’ve ever been unappreciative, I’m sorry. I know Kenzie is your greatest sin, and I know you’ve been chasing redemption ever since, but you’ve done good things, too. You saved another little girl, and no, that doesn’t make it even, but six-year-old me thanks you. You’re my hero, Ethic. You saved my life. Thank you.”

“Promise me something, Mo,” Ethic said.

“Anything,” Morgan answered.

“If you’re ever in trouble again, you’ll always come home,” Ethic stated. “Because no matter what, you always can. No matter what you do, as long as I’m breathing, you can always return home.”

“I promise.”

Chapter 16

“Tread Carefully” by Sza

What you doing, nephew? You ain’t even washed your hands, folks,” Isa chastised as he picked Messari up by the belt loop on the back of his pants and held him up in the air.

“My hands is clean, Uncle Isa!” Messari shouted as he flew, arms outstretched without an ounce of fear in his body. “Wook!”

“Nah, li’l nigga, I’ve seen them fingers digging for fool’s gold one too many times,” Isa replied, snickering as he set Messari on the countertop. “Don’t nobody want no boogers all in the pizza dough. Hands out.”

Messari held out his tiny hands, and Isa grabbed the dish soap, squeezing two drops in Messari’s palms. He turned on the faucet, and Messari leaned over.

“Rub ‘em together good too,” Isa instructed.

Messari rubbed and clapped, splashing water all over the place, but he got the job done.

“Good job,” Isa approved. Isa picked Messari up and carried him back to the table. He sat and pulled a chair near him to sit Messari in. He was so short he could barely see over the table, so the baby came to his knees.

“Now you said you wanted pizza, right?” Isa asked.

Messari nodded.

“I’ma show you how to make it,” Isa stated. Isa went to the cabinet and pulled out the ingredients.

“How come we don’t just buy it?” Messari asked.

“Because it tastes better when you fix your own,” Isa replied.

“Is it hard to make?” Messari asked.

“Nah, it’s easy,” Isa answered. “This is all you need right here. Flour, water, salt, yeast, oil.”