Chapter 6
I called Curtis immediately.
The number rang twice.
Then he answered.
“Where are you?”
“Don't worry about it.”
“Are you safe?”
“For now.”
“What does that mean?”
Silence.
“Curtis.”
“I messed up.”
“You think?”
“Malik, I'm serious.”
“So am I.”
I stepped outside the training center.
Cold rain had started.
I barely noticed.
“Who do you owe?”
“Some guys.”
“What guys?”
“People I was doing business with.”
“Selling shoes?”
He didn't answer.
I closed my eyes.
“What business?”
“I was buying electronics.”
“With what money?”
“Credit.”
“What kind of credit?”
“Not bank credit.”
My stomach dropped.
“You borrowed money from people?”
“I was supposed to flip inventory fast.”
“What inventory?”
“Phones. Tablets. Game systems.”
“Legal?”
Silence.
“Curtis.”
“I didn't ask questions.”
“That's not an answer.”
“I don't know.”
“You know.”
He cursed quietly.
“I knew some of it was probably sketchy.”
I gripped the phone.
“And you used Mom's rent money?”
“To cover one payment.”
“How much do you owe now?”
He hesitated.
“Eight grand.”
I almost shouted.
“Eight thousand dollars?”
“Keep your voice down.”
“Where are you?”
“I told you—”
“If somebody is threatening Mom and Nia, I need to know where you are.”
He was silent.
Then he said, “Milwaukee.”
“Why Milwaukee?”
“A friend.”
“Do these people know you're there?”
“I don't think so.”
“What did they say about Mom?”
“They said if I keep hiding, they'll go to the apartment.”
“Did they actually threaten her?”
“Yes.”
“With what?”
“They said they'd make sure I understand what happens when people don't pay.”
My skin went cold.
“Did they mention Nia?”
“No.”
“Did you tell them where Mom lives?”
“They've been there.”
“What?”
“I met one guy outside once.”
I felt rage rising again.
“You brought these people to the building?”
“I didn't bring them inside.”
“That is not the point.”
“I know.”
“No, I don't think you do.”
“What do you want me to say?”
“The truth would've been useful six months ago.”
He went quiet.
I forced myself to think.
“Do you have messages?”
“Yes.”
“Screenshots?”
“Some.”
“Send everything to me.”
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because you're gonna tell Mom to call the police.”
“Yes.”
“Then they know I snitched.”
“This is not some movie. They're threatening our family.”
“You don't know these guys.”
“Neither do you!”
Silence.
I lowered my voice.
“Curtis, listen to me.”
“What?”
“You are not protecting Mom by hiding this.”
“I know.”
“You're making it worse.”
“I know.”
“Send me the messages.”
A minute later, screenshots started arriving.
Some were vague.
PAY YOUR DEBT.
TIME IS RUNNING OUT.
WE KNOW WHERE YOU CAME FROM.
Then I saw one that made my stomach drop.
Nice apartment on West Foster.
That was Mom's building.
Another:
Little sister gets out at 3?
My hands went numb.
“Curtis.”
“I know.”
“They mentioned Nia.”
“I forgot about that one.”
“You forgot?”
“I got a lot of messages.”
“Call the police now.”
“No.”
“Then I am.”
“Malik!”
“They mentioned a nine-year-old child.”
“You'll get me killed.”
“They already know where she goes to school!”
I hung up.
Then I called Mom.
No answer.
Again.
No answer.
I called Aunt Renee.
She answered.
“What's wrong?”
“Where's Nia?”
“With me.”
Relief hit me.
“Keep her there.”
“Why?”
“Don't take her back to the apartment.”
Her voice changed.
“Malik.”
“I need you to trust me.”
“What happened?”
“Curtis owes dangerous people money.”
Silence.
“Say that again.”
I told her everything I knew.
By the time I finished, Aunt Renee was furious.
“Your brother has lost his mind.”
“I know.”
“Did you call the police?”
“I'm about to.”
“I'll call Denise.”
“Don't let Mom go home alone.”
“She won't.”
The next several hours became a blur.
Police report.
Screenshots.
Names Curtis had given me.
Descriptions.
Addresses.
A detective called Mom.
Another officer met Aunt Renee and Nia.
Nobody told Nia why.
We said the apartment had a maintenance issue.
I hated lying to her.
But I hated the truth more.
Mom called me later.
Her voice was shaking.
“How long did Curtis know?”
“I don't know.”
“They mentioned her school.”
“I know.”
“My baby.”
“I know.”
“He knew and didn't tell me.”
“Mom.”
“What if something happened?”
“It didn't.”
“What if—”
“It didn't.”
I needed her to hear that.
I needed to hear it too.
Police recommended Mom and Nia stay somewhere else temporarily.
They went to Aunt Renee's.
For the first time, I was grateful for every argument between those two women that hadn't completely destroyed their relationship.
Mom wanted me to come home.
I said no.
Not because I didn't care.
Because there was nothing I could do there that police and family weren't already doing.
And because Monday was my first day on the commercial job.
That decision made me feel guilty.
I went anyway.
The site was a twenty-story office renovation downtown.
Steel.
Concrete.
Noise.
Real work.
Mr. Harris paired me with a journeyman named Leon.
Leon was forty-two, quiet, and terrifyingly precise.
He could look at a conduit run from across the room and tell if it was crooked by half an inch.
On my first day, he watched me measure a bend.
“You nervous?”
“A little.”
“About the work?”
“No.”
He nodded.
“Good.”
I looked at him.
He pointed toward my phone.
“Whatever's in there stays in there.”
Mr. Harris had told him.
I put the phone away.
For ten hours, I worked.
And for ten hours, I did not solve anyone else's life.
When I checked my phone afterward, I had a voicemail from Detective Barnes.
“We've made contact with your brother. Please call me.”
My heart jumped.
I called.
“Is Curtis okay?”
“He's alive.”
“Where is he?”
“We located him in Milwaukee.”
“Did you arrest him?”
“I can't discuss every detail, but he's cooperating regarding the threats.”
“What about the identity theft?”
“That remains separate.”
“So he could be charged?”
“Yes.”
I sat on a bench outside the train station.
“What happens now?”
“We're investigating the individuals contacting him. Your mother and sister should continue taking precautions.”
I thanked him.
Then I called Mom.
She already knew.
“He called me,” she said.
“What did he say?”
“He apologized.”
I waited.
“And?”
“I told him apologies don't fix what he did.”
I was proud of her.
“He asked if he could come home.”
“What did you say?”
“No.”
That surprised me even more.
“He cried.”
I stared at the pavement.
“Did you change your mind?”
“No.”
Mom sounded like saying it hurt.
But she repeated it.
“No.”
That night, Nia called me from Aunt Renee's guest room.
“Everybody's acting weird.”
“Adults are weird.”
“That's not an answer.”
I smiled.
“What do you want to know?”
“Is Curtis in trouble?”
“Yes.”
“Bad trouble?”
“Yes.”
“Did he hurt somebody?”
I thought carefully.
“He made choices that hurt people.”
“Mom?”
“Yes.”
“You?”
“Yes.”
“Me?”
My chest tightened.
I didn't want to lie.
“Yes.”
Her eyes widened.
“How?”
“It has to do with money and private information. Mom will explain when you're older.”
“That's annoying.”
“I know.”
“Did he steal my piggy bank?”
Despite everything, I laughed.
“No.”
“Good.”
She was quiet.
Then she whispered, “Does Curtis hate us?”
“No.”
“Then why did he hurt us?”
That question stayed in the room between us.
“I think sometimes people get so scared of facing their mistakes that they make bigger mistakes trying to hide them.”
Nia frowned.
“So he was scared?”
“Probably.”
“He doesn't act scared.”
“Most scared people don't.”
She thought about that.
“Are you scared?”
I almost said no.
Then I remembered what I'd told myself about truth.
“Yes.”
“Of what?”
I looked around my little room.
“Messing up my new job. Something happening to you. Mom getting overwhelmed. Lots of things.”
“But you still went to work.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because being scared doesn't mean you stop doing what you need to do.”
She smiled.
“That's what Ms. Grant says about fractions.”
I laughed.
“Exactly.”
By Friday, police had identified two of the men threatening Curtis.
It turned out Curtis wasn't their only target.
They had been running a larger resale scheme using stolen electronics and high-interest informal loans.
Curtis had gotten in over his head.
That didn't excuse him.
But it explained how quickly eight thousand dollars had become a threat to everybody around him.
The apartment was still in danger too.
Mom and Aunt Renee scraped together enough money to pay most of the landlord's demand.
They were still six hundred short.
Mom called me.
“I need advice.”
Not money.
Advice.
I sat down.
“Okay.”
“The landlord says if I pay the remaining six hundred by Monday, he'll stop the filing.”
“What do you have?”
“Nothing left after this.”
“When do you get paid?”
“Wednesday.”
I thought.
“Can you ask for a two-day extension?”
“I did.”
“And?”
“He said Monday.”
“Can Aunt Renee help?”
“She already gave me seven hundred.”
“What about Uncle Darnell?”
“Five hundred.”
I opened my banking app.
After overtime, I had almost nine hundred saved.
Six hundred would hurt.
But it wouldn't destroy me.
Still, I hesitated.
Mom heard it.
“No.”
“What?”
“I know what you're thinking.”
“Mom—”
“No.”
“Nia needs a home.”
“She has one at Renee's.”
“That's not permanent.”
“Neither is me taking your money every time I make a mistake.”
I said nothing.
Mom continued.
“I have something I can sell.”
“What?”
Her voice softened.
“My wedding ring.”
I went still.
Mom had stopped wearing Dad's ring years ago, but she'd kept it in a small jewelry box.
“Don't.”
“I don't need it.”
“Yes, you do.”
“No.”
“Mom.”
“Your father is not in that ring.”
My throat tightened.
She continued.
“He's in you. He's in Curtis, whether Curtis remembers it or not. He's in Nia's laugh even though she never met him.”
I looked down.
“I held onto that ring because I thought letting it go meant letting your father go.”
“And now?”
“Now I think letting you go to Chicago was harder.”
I swallowed.
Mom laughed softly.
“And somehow I'm surviving.”
The ring sold for nine hundred dollars.
She paid the landlord.
The eviction stopped.
For the first time since I had left, every major bill was current.
Then something happened none of us expected.
Curtis came back home.
Not to move in.
Not to ask for money.
He came with Detective Barnes.
Mom called me on video.
Curtis looked exhausted.
He had lost weight.
There were dark circles beneath his eyes.
He stood in the living room he'd once treated like his personal kingdom.
The television was gone.
The PlayStation was gone.
His expensive shoes were boxed near the door.
Mom stood across from him.
Nia was still at Aunt Renee's.
Curtis looked at the phone.
At me.
“I sold everything.”
I said nothing.
“The shoes. System. My car.”
“You sold the Charger?”
He nodded.
“How much?”
“Enough to pay part of what I owe and start paying Mom back.”
Mom's face gave nothing away.
Curtis continued.
“I got a job.”
I almost asked where.
Then he said it.
“Warehouse. Night shift.”
Mom crossed her arms.
“You still can't stay here.”
Curtis's eyes filled.
“I know.”
It was the first time I'd ever heard him say those two words without an argument attached.
He turned toward the hallway.
“I just came for clothes.”
Mom nodded.
As he passed Nia's bedroom, he stopped.
His hand rested on the doorframe.
Then he looked at the phone again.
“Tell her I'm sorry.”
“You tell her when Mom decides she's ready.”
He nodded.
He packed one suitcase.
Before leaving, he turned toward Mom.
“I'm going to fix it.”
Mom wiped her eyes.
“Don't say it.”
Curtis froze.
“Show me.”
He nodded.
Then he walked out.
I thought that would be the biggest change in our family.
May you like
I was wrong.
Because two weeks later, Mom collapsed at work.
