Page 109 of Ashes

“Wanna talk about it?” I prompted.

“Not really…” She trailed off, but I knew she wanted to get it off her chest.

“Well, I’ll be here when you want to, okay?”

“I started with Sloane, my tutor, last week and it’s beenreally helpful,” she started, finally looking at me. “It’s justmamáhas been on my ass?—”

“Language, Akari,” I reprimanded her. My mother probably deserved it, but regardless.

“Sorry.Mamáhas been on me every day about it and why my grades weren’t already up. I tried to explain to her that it would take some time, but she wouldn’t hear it.”

That doesn’t surprise me.

“I’ll talk to her,” I promise and my sister’s body immediately relaxed.

“Thank you, Nana. Anyways,” she said, her eyes glimmering. “I wanna hear about your trip and what it’s like to be married.¡Dímelo cantando!”

I spent the next few minutes summarizing our trip and gave her a brief overview of what married life was like. I was open with both my sisters because I wanted them to be comfortable sharing anything with me, but there were a few things they didn’t have to know.

Iris joined us as well after I’d asked Akari to call her over and we chatted about anything and everything.

My parents might have burdened me with taking care of their children and it was tough at times, but I wouldn’t have it any other way. I had the chance to have sisters andhavea relationship with them. I would never trade that.

It was 10:00 p.m. by the time we hung up and I left the hospital. I sent a quick message to Jamal, letting him know that I’d lost track of time talking to my sisters after my shift and was on my way home.

Home. Because that’s what it became over the last months.

I didn’t dread going to the place where I lived. I now actually looked forward to it, looked forward to having someone be there when I got home or be the person there for when Jamal got home.

I looked forward to spending the night in bed with someone I loved sleeping next to.

I hadn’t had the chance to tell him yet, not because I was afraid to, but because I wanted it to be at the right time.

I made my way to the parking lot, rummaging through my tote bag to get my keys out. I finally found them, tucked between the pages of my clinical notebook, and fished them out.

I pressed the button to unlock the doors and opened the driver’s side, then threw my bag into the passenger seat. I was about to get inside when hands came up behind me, clamping tightly over my mouth.

“Do not make a sound,” a voice warned me.

My keys slipped from my fingers and I tried to fight off my attacker by slamming my fist against his hands and trying to kick his shins.

But I suddenly felt a sharp sting on the side of my leg.

I bent my neck to see what hit me, only to see whoever was behind me depressing the plunger of a large syringe into my upper thigh.

Son of a bitch.

He removed the needle from my muscle and tossed theempty syringe to the side. I didn’t know what he injected me with, but I knew I still had a little bit of time before it kicked in.

I jammed my head backward with every ounce of strength I had.

“Motherfucker,” he barked. I wiggled against him, but he banded his forearm over my front, pinning me against his chest. “Stop moving, you bitch.”

I heard the screech of tires behind us, then my body was thrown in the back of a black van, three other bulky men already waiting inside.

“Let me go,” I screamed.

“Shut up,” he spat out angrily, slapping me across the face.