Page 96 of The Wright Man

I left. Ran.

Didn't say another word. Didn't look back.

I slammed the door behind me and jogged across the street to the house that didn't feel like home anymore.

The moment I stepped inside, the silence hit me like a punch.

No music. No voices. No warmth. Just dust and old air and the ghosts of people I couldn't reach anymore.

Mama was gone. Kareem was behind bars. Andre was a stranger. And Angelica... I'd just shattered the only real thing I had left.

I sank to the floor in the middle of the living room.

The quiet was unbearable.

I sat in it anyway.

For the first time in a long time, I let myself cry. The real kind. The deep kind. The kind that tastes like blood and grief and guilt. I buried my face in my hands and let it pour out of me, every scream I never got to yell, every punch I never threw, every word I'd swallowed just to survive.

I had nothing left.

No one left.

But maybe... maybe I could become something.

Maybe I could claw my way out of this version of me. Make something that wouldn't ruin everything it touched.

My hand fumbled for my phone, then my backpack that had been sitting by the door since the last day of school.

I found the card. Crumpled. Faded. Still legible.

SSgt. T. Michaels — United States Marine Corps

I called the number.

A steady voice answered.

"Sergeant Michaels speaking."

I cleared my throat.

"This is Maleek Wright," I said, voice hoarse. "I'm ready to talk about my future."

* * *

Maleek

Now

The cap and gown sat in my lap like it still weighed a hundred pounds.

Angelica had gone quiet on the other side of the screen too. Her smile had faded, replaced by that thoughtful stillness she gets when she's reading more than what I'm saying.

Or not saying.

I brushed my thumb over the stiff, navy blue fabric. The tassel was still looped in a perfect knot, the gold thread dulled by time. I didn't even remember packing it up that night. Probably just threw it in the closet and slammed the door on the whole damn day.

"I don't think I'll ever forgive myself for how I talked to you that day," I said quietly. More to the air than to her.