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Myesa burst through the doors, hair tied up, robe half-buttoned over a tank top and leggings. Her face was flushed, chest heaving, hands trembling as she grabbed the front desk. “Where’s my son? What the fuck happened?!”

Gran Betty hobbled in behind her with her cane, whispering prayers with each step. “God, don’t take my baby. Don’t take my baby’s baby.”

Anthony came last, quiet and hulking, in an old crewneck and Dickies. His fists were clenched, jaw locked tight, that old street tension riding his shoulders like armor. His steps were calm, but they felt dangerous.

Aku hadn’t changed.

Still in that cream-colored dress Malik picked out for her.

Silk straps slipping down her shoulders.

The hem stained in blood and dirt and whatever else she slid through when she dropped to the pavement, trying to keep him alive.

Her heels were gone. She didn’t even know where they ended up.

Her hair was frizzy and wild, makeup streaked down her cheeks, but her spine was straight.

Her eyes stayed open. She didn’t blink…. didn’t waver.

“He’s okay,” she said fast, voice rough and dry from screaming. “He’s alive. Still unconscious, but he made it.”

The second the words left her mouth, Myesa ran to her, arms out. She grabbed Aku so tight it hurt and rocked from side to side like she was holding her child instead of her child’s woman. “You okay, baby?”

That one question from Myesa broke whatever strength Aku had left.

She crumbled all over again, and Myesa caught her without hesitation.

They clung to each other in the middle of the hallway, sobbing like it was just the two of them. Myesa didn’t care who was watching, didn’t care about her smeared mascara or trembling hands. She cried with Aku—raw, present, and unbothered by anything but her baby’s pain.

No words. Just tears, breath, and love holding them together.

Anthony stepped closer. “What happened?” he asked, voice low but deep enough to shake the floor.

Myesa stepped back, looked at her square. “Tell us, don’t sugarcoat it.”

Aku nodded once and swallowed. Her jaw twitched and her hands shook as the whole scene flashed before her eyes.

“We were leaving the restaurant,” she started.

Her voice was hoarse, like it had been pulled across gravel.

“Bu was supposed to meet us, but he was running late. We were talking…having a good time as we walked to the car. I got in first and when Malik went around to get in, some boys rolled up.” She licked her lips.

“One of them hit him across the head with his gun,” Aku kept her voice low in case someone was listening too close.

Gran Betty froze. “Who?”

“Bloods, at least three of ’em,” Aku whispered. “Jumped out with masks and sticks. I ain’t even have time to think. They said his name. Not mine - his. This wasn’t no random shit. It was personal.”

Anthony stepped back and punched the wall. Not hard enough to break it, but just enough to feel the pain.

“They said some wild shit about me being pretty…Malik told me to stay in the car, but I ain’t leave him. He swung on one of them when they stepped too close… they were taunting him… talking real reckless.”

Aku sucked in hard. Her lashes were crusted with dried tears. Her grief was stuck behind her ribs like it was waiting for permission to break.

“He was shot in his chest. I was holding him - screaming tryna cover the blood with my hands. I ain’t know where to press. It was too much.”

Myesa crumbled into the chair behind her, face in her hands. “Lord Jesus…”

“They didn’t start shooting until Bu pulled up…

everything happened so fast. Malik was hit,” Aku continued.

“But Bu let that shit go. They scattered while still shooting. One of ’em ain’t get away, but the other two did.

I think they thought they finished him off.

” Her brain was scattered so the sequence of events seemed to blur into each other.

Aku didn’t know if she was even telling the correct story.

Anthony rubbed his face and paced. “So, they wanted him gone. This wasn’t no warning.”

“No,” Aku said. “They came to kill him.”

Gran Betty made a sound like she’d been punched in the gut. Her cane trembled beneath her weight.

“I couldn’t wait for the ambulance,” Aku continued. “I was losing him. We got him in Bu’s car and he drove like hell. We got here as quick as we could but… I don’t know,” she cried again.

Myesa stood and took her hands. “You stayed. You didn’t leave my son out there. That means everything.”

“I didn’t protect him though,” Aku croaked. “I was right there and I couldn’t stop them.”

Anthony walked over and stood in front of her. Big, intimidating, but not unkind. He looked her over slowly, then nodded once. “You ain’t fold.” He turned his attention to the hallway. “You said Bu got one of ’em?”

Aku nodded even though she wasn’t sure. She knew one wasn’t breathing but there was a trail of blood. If anyone else got shot, she had no knowledge on their condition.

Anthony clenched his jaw. “Then we got two left.”

Gran Betty smacked his arm with the cane. “Not in here,” she muttered. “Don’t talk that vengeance talk where death already tried.”

Aku took a deep breath and wiped her face with the back of her hand. “I’m takin’ him to Emerald City.”

“What?” Myesa blinked. “Baby, that boy just got outta surgery. He need doctors.”

“He’s not safe here,” Aku said firmly. “I got private transport. A nurse. Hospital bed. I already set it up.”

They just stared at her.

“My Daddy probably gon’ lose his shit,” she said more so to herself, “but I’ll deal with him later.”

Myesa’s lip trembled, but she nodded. “Okay, what do you need?”

Anthony didn’t say anything. Just walked to the window, looked out, and muttered, “Now I gotta face whoever for trying to killing mine.”

Aku didn’t flinch because she wanted revenge too. She understood what he meant. “I gotta talk to the doctors here and get my people on the line… I’m getting him outta here because it don’t feel safe.”

Aku sat stiff in the corner of Malik’s hospital room, arms wrapped around herself. She kept looking at his chest to make sure it kept rising. The machines beeped in rhythm with her heartbeat, which felt like it had been tripping over itself since the moment they loaded him into the ambulance.

The nurse came in again—third time in ten minutes. She was tall, with kind eyes and hands that moved with confidence. You could tell she’d seen everything and still offered soft smiles when people broke down in front of her.

“Any change?” she asked gently, keeping her voice at a low octave.

Aku shook her head. “He moved earlier, I think. Maybe it was just a twitch.” Her voice was scratchy from crying, but she kept her face still.

“That’s still something,” the nurse said, checking the IV bag and scribbling something onto her chart. She adjusted the monitor with a quiet click, then looked back at Aku. “You should get some rest.”

Aku didn’t flinch, didn’t blink, just kept watching Malik’s chest. “Can I ask you something?”

“Of course.”

“What happens if I move him?” Her voice cracked mid-sentence, but she powered through. “Not far, I just…I think it’s safer if he’s not here.”

The nurse’s face shifted. Her brows pinched, lips pressing into a thin line.

“He’s stable, but critical,” she said carefully. “Transport would be risky. He needs 24-hour monitoring, and any sudden shift could?—”

“They could come back,” Aku whispered, cutting her off. Her eyes darted to the door like it might swing open at any second. “They know where he is. What if they come back to finish the job?”

Aku’s parents had kept her rooted in black culture and humbleness, but they never taught her what to do when the man she loved was shot by a rival gang. She wasn’t sure if what she was doing was right, it just felt like the best thing to do.

The nurse hesitated. She’d seen this before—families moving their wounded in the dead of night, too scared to leave them behind. She didn’t ask questions. She knew when the streets got involved, things moved differently.

“I’ll talk to the doctor,” she said. “But we’d need to discharge him against medical advice, and?—”

“Do it.” Aku’s voice didn’t shake this time. It hit the air with steel. “I’ll handle everything else. Just do it – please,” she pleaded.

The nurse gave her a small nod. There was something in Aku’s eyes - determination wrapped in fear, survival instincts louder than reason.

“I’ll see what I can do.”

As she slipped out the room, Aku stood slowly and walked to Malik’s bedside.

She brushed his hair back just gazing at him.

He looked peaceful—like when he was laid up in her bed, under her just vibing.

Her other hand pushed against her belly.

This had to be right and Malik had to be okay.

There was no way she’d be given what she prayed for just to experience it in pieces.

So instead of crying and worrying, Aku pulled out her phone calling in any and every favor she could think of.

She got some push back, but when she called her Auntie, Luna made the world shake for her.

Luna knew true, unfiltered love, so of course she understood the position her niece was in.

With Luna being an industry sweetheart and having more money than she knew what to do with, she paid for the emergency jet and after going back and forth, Aku paid for the staff.

Aku had money—she came from money. She didn’t mind depleting it to give Malik a fighting chance.

A successful surgery was just the beginning. Now, she had to keep him out of Crescent until Bu could make it all go away.