Page 274 of The Wright Man

It had taken months of planning, grant proposals, all-night text chains, and more coffee than I'd care to admit—but we'd done it. We signed the lease last week, and the keys were burning a hole in my pocket ever since.

After the year I'd had—after Gavin, after the divorce, after burning down every lie I'd once called home—I hadn't just risen from the ashes. I'd planted something new.

"I still can't believe this is ours," I murmured.

Bella glanced up, rice stuck to her bottom lip. "Believe it. You cried the second they handed you the keys."

"I did not cry," I said, scandalized.

"She cried," Tina confirmed with a grin. "But it was the cute kind. Single tear. Oprah-style. Very 'Look at what the Lord has done.'"

I flipped her off.

In truth, she wasn't wrong.

I had stepped away from the salon. Alicia was running Dana's Chair like a boss, and Kia and Imani were both being groomed to lead future locations. It had been terrifying at first—stepping back from the baby I'd built with my bare hands. But I knew it was the right call. I wasn't just a stylist anymore. I was a survivor. A builder. A healer.

This new chapter? Raised and Rooted was about exactly that—raising up our people and rooting them in something real. Mental health, joy, community care. A place where generational trauma could meet radical restoration. Where your edges, emotions, and existence were all welcome.

We were building a temple, and this was our altar.

Tina popped a plantain in her mouth and moaned like it was the best thing she'd ever tasted. "So. Kareem's homecoming. I vote we rent a petting zoo. Llamas. Goats. Maybe a camel. Set the tone."

"Set the tone for what?" I laughed. "A lawsuit?"

"Girl, it's Kareem's party. We survived hell and came back with a plus-one. It needs to be epic."

Bella raised an eyebrow. "Not sure llamas scream redemption arc, but do you."

"Thank you." Tina pointed a fry at her. "Finally, someone who respects my vision."

"I didn't say I respected it," Bella said. "Just that you're gonna do whatever you want anyway."

I shook my head. "Y'all. Can we focus? Food. Music. Guest list. That's it. No llamas. No camels."

"Boring," Tina grumbled. "Team Talk Too Much is finally reuniting after ten years and you wanna make it chill? The streets aren't ready for me and Kareem back in the same room."

She turned dramatically to Bella. "Back me up."

Bella looked down at her food, unusually quiet. "I barely knew him. I have little to contribute."

My eyes narrowed. "Bella, please. Kareem is family."

She shrugged. "To y'all, yeah. To me, he was Maleek's dope boy brother who got sent to prison while I was in training bras."

Oof.

She wasn't wrong. Kareem was eighteen when Daddy adopted Bella. He started running the streets not long after, and by the time Bella was forming full sentences without cussing someone out, Kareem was already a ghost in our house. A shadow.

I'd never really thought about it before. Bella and Kareem were basically strangers.

Tina, ever the chaos muppet, smirked. "You're still in training bras."

Bella scoffed. "These B-cups get me plenty."

"Plenty of room for improvement," Tina fired back.

I clapped twice to shut them up. "Focus. Guest list. Riq, Sticks, Daddy, the salon crew, Andre—"