Page 254 of Invisible Bars

And hit send.

I leaned back against the pillows, letting the silence wrap around me.

A part of me still wasn’t sure if that was the beginning of me healing or just reopening a wound I didn’t know how to face. But I answered… that had to mean something.

After lying in my thoughts for about thirty minutes, I got up and headed to the kitchen in search of something sweet. For a week or so, I had a sweet tooth. I opt for some of Ms. Shirley’s peach—if she hadn’t hidden it again.

Once I made it to the last step, I heard a strange, stifled sound from the dining room—a soft sob.

I froze.

Something flickered beneath my skin, a nervous rhythm I couldn’t will away. I let it pass through me like a chill in the wind—No time to be panicking. Not with something wrong just ahead.

I crept toward the edge of the wall, breath held, and peeked around the corner.

There was Ms. Shirley—slumped forward in one of the dining chairs, her back to me. Her hand clutched around her phone against her chest, and her whole body shook with silent crying.

I stepped in quietly. “Ms. Shirley?”

She looked startled, quickly wiping at her face.

“Oh, Naji! I didn’t hear you! Lord, I look a mess!”

My eyes didn’t leave the screen. The man in the photo had her smile—the same wide stretch when it was genuine, the same slant in the eyes when it wasn’t. His nose was hers, too, just a little sharper. He was kin to her in some way—no denying it.

“Who is he?” I asked gently, already feeling like the answer was gonna sit heavy.

Ms. Shirley tried to wave it off at first—but her hand barely made it halfway before she broke. Her voice cracked mid-breath.

“This… this is my son. I miss him so bad!”

I swallowed.

“Wh-where is he?” I asked softly, not trying to sound like I was prying… too much.

She looked down at the phone in her lap like it weighed a thousand pounds.

“He’s in jail.”

Then she told me everything—how long he’d been in, how far away he was, what the charges were. The way her voice dropped lower with each sentence like she was trying not to shatter all over again.

“I know he’s not dead,” she said, a sad laugh breaking through her tears,“but he’s not here. I haven’t hugged my baby in two years. He got more time ahead and… sometimes it just hits me out of nowhere, you know?”

My eyes softened.

I didn’t say anything right away. Just nodded. I knew that kind of ache—the kind that settled deep, where words couldn’t reach. It wasn’t just pain. It was the absence that echoed.

After a long, quiet pause, I reached for her hand.

“Come on with me.”

She looked up, confused. “Come where?”

“To the bathroom.”

Ms. Shirley blinked.“Naji, I love you. But are you okay? Did the tics mess with your head?”

I smiled faintly. The corner of my mouth lifted even as a tremor crept up my neck.