Page 5 of Rose

She was there when Ahzii gave birth to her stillborn daughter, holding her hand as her heart broke in real time. She was the one driving her to therapy appointments when Ahzii couldn’t bring herself to touch the wheel. She stayed over when the nights were too dark and the mornings too empty.

Kyre even stepped back from her cases, turning down opportunities at the law firm to be here.

And no matter how many times Ahzii told her she didn’t have to, she stayed anyway.

And when Bianca, Ahzii’s mother, packed up her life in Houston and moved to Miami after the tragedy, refusing to be apart from her children any longer, Kyre was still there.

She never left her side. Ahzii didn’t know how she’d repay her for the way she showed up. But she knew one thing for sure—she didn’t have to say a word.

Kyre already knew.

“Hey girl,” Ahzii finally spoke, her voice low, tired.

Kyre met her gaze, searching for something—anything—that wasn’t pain. “You sure you’re ready? ”

She already knew the answer. Today wasn’t just another day. Today was Willow’s birthday. The day her baby girl would’ve turned one. But instead of balloons and cake, there was only silence and gravestones.

Ahzii had spent the last year buried in recovery, too broken to face the reality waiting for her. Watching William and Willow take their last breaths was one kind of hell, but seeing their names carved into cold stone... that was a whole different kind of cruel.

But today, she couldn’t run anymore. Her baby deserved to be celebrated, even if it was beneath the earth.

“Yeah,” Ahzii whispered, her voice flat and hollow. “Can’t keep avoiding her... them.”

Kyre nodded, her throat tight, sadness heavy in her eyes.

She remembered who Ahzii used to be—soft, goofy, lighthearted even in her shy moments.

That girl was gone. Burned away. Now all that remained was someone cold, distant, numb.

A ghost trapped inside her own body. Kyre prayed every single day that somehow, someway, the woman she grew up with would fight her way back.

That life’s hell hadn’t killed her completely.

“Let’s go,” Kyre said gently, her voice cracking despite her best effort to stay strong.

She wouldn’t let her best friend face this day alone. Never.

Ahzii made her way to Ace’s room, Ace padding behind her, his head tilted like he knew today wasn’t an ordinary day.

She knelt down, rubbing his head before setting out his food and filling his water bowl.

“Bluey, huh?” she whispered with the faintest smile, turning on his favorite show before kissing the top of his head.

Ace wagged his tail softly, watching her leave like he was standing guard over her broken heart.

She walked out of the apartment, Kyre trailing close behind like always.

“Riding with me or taking your bike?” Kyre asked as they reached the garage.

Ahzii grabbed her black helmet, slipping it on without hesitation. “Bike. I’m going to the shop after.”

Kyre gave her a look, one that said really? but she didn’t push.

What was the point?

All Ahzii did these days was work. The shop, the gun of the tattoo machine, the hum of her art—those were the only things that numbed the pain. Kyre wished—begged—that just for today, Ahzii would stop. Rest. Grieve. Feel.

But instead, she chose the only comfort she knew: art.

Ahzii threw her leg over the sleek black motorcycle A’Mazi had gifted her after teaching her how to ride. The AMG sat untouched in the garage, polished and waiting. But she preferred the bike. The wind, the speed—it drowned out the noise in her head.

Kyre slid into her G-Wagon, leading the way out of the garage as Ahzii followed close behind. And together, they headed to the one place Ahzii had avoided for a year .

The place where the love of her life and their daughter rested beneath the earth. She didn’t know how she was supposed to feel when she got there.

All she knew was, the numbness couldn’t protect her forever.

???

Ahzii walked slowly along the paved path of the cemetery, the blazing Miami heat pressing down on her skin, yet a cold chill ran down her spine with every step she took.

No breeze, no shade—just heat and silence.

But the closer Kyre led her to the graves, the colder she felt.

Goosebumps broke out across her arms, despite the sun burning overhead.

And then she saw them. Two tombstones side by side. Kyre stopped in front of them, stepping aside to give her space.

The first stone read:

William Davis — Loving Father & Husband.

Her heart clenched. The tears stung, but she blinked them back... until her eyes landed on the one beside his.

Soft pink. Covered in roses. Tiny baby footprints carved gently beside the name.

Willow Miani Rose-Davis — Beautiful Daughter. A Rose.

Ahzii didn’t want a funeral for either of them. She wasn’t in any shape to plan or attend one, and truthfully, there wasn’t much point. William’s parents had passed years ago, and besides a brother who kept his distance, he didn’t have much family left.

Her throat tightened until she could barely breathe.

Traci and Kyre had done everything right. The headstones were perfect. Gentle, loving, beautiful... just like them.

And yet nothing about this felt right.

There shouldn’t be tombstones. There should be giggles and laughter. Baby footsteps and bedtime stories. William’s arms wrapped around them both. But instead—just stone.

The tears finally fell. She hadn’t cried in a year. The last time was when she held Willow’s lifeless body in her arms. Cold. Silent. Still.

Since then, nothing.

Until now.

Kyre turned away, wiping her own tears quickly before pulling Ahzii into a hug, squeezing her like she was trying to hold her together.

“I’ll be close if you need me,” Kyre whispered, her voice soft, breaking around the edges.

Ahzii held her tight, words caught in her throat.

“Thank you, Ky... for this. For everything,” she finally whispered, her voice cracking, barely holding itself together.

Kyre kissed the side of her head softly. “No need to thank me, sis. I know they’re ready to hear from you. I’ll give you some space.”

When Kyre stepped away, giving her distance but never leaving her sight, Ahzii let herself fall to the grass between them.

Right between her husband and her daughter. And for a long moment, there were no words .

Just sobs.

A year’s worth of pain, grief, and love breaking free from where she’d buried it deep inside. She cried until her chest hurt, until her throat burned, until her body shook from the weight of it all.

And as she sat there between them, her mind drifted back to one of the happiest days of her life— the day she found out she was pregnant, and how she surprised William with the news that changed everything.

“Argh...”

Ahzii gagged, gripping the edge of the sink before her stomach emptied itself for what felt like the tenth time today. Lunch with Kyre was long gone.

She wiped her mouth, chest heaving as she tried to steady herself.

Her body ached, her breast tender and sore, and anything she ate refused to stay down. It figured—on one of her busiest days, when the shop was packed from the surprise tattoo and piercing sale she threw together, this was how her body repaid her.

The Escape Room was buzzing. People laughed, machines hummed, needles buzzed against skin. The city showed up and showed out.

And she could barely stand.

Perfect timing, she thought bitterly.

Especially with her and William’s baecation to Thailand tomorrow. This sickness was screwing everything up.

A knock tapped against the bathroom door.

“Zii, you good?”

A’Mazi’s voice came through, thick with concern.

She groaned, washing her hands and splashing cold water on her face before unlocking the door.

The moment it opened, his eyes scanned her, instantly clocking what she tried to hide.

“I think I got a stomach virus or something. Been throwing up all day.”

But he didn’t buy it. His brows stayed furrowed, his mouth pressed tight with worry.

“You sure? You don’t look good. You need to hit the hospital?” He fired off the questions fast, like bullets, the big-brother mode fully activated.

She couldn’t help the faint chuckle that slipped out, despite how drained she felt.

“Calm down. Yes, I’m sure. I know my body, Mazi.” Her tone came out sharper than she meant.

He flinched a little but didn’t back down.

“Damn, okay,” he muttered, still eyeing her like she might drop dead any second.

She brushed past him, heading back to her tattoo station, but the moment she stood too fast, the room tilted.

Her knees buckled.

A’Mazi caught her before she hit the floor, his arms steady, holding her upright.

“Yeah... nah. You’re clearly not okay.” His voice hardened with that no-nonsense tone. “We’re going to the hospital. I don’t give a fuck what you’re saying.”

Too weak to argue, she leaned against him, breathing through the dizziness .

A’Mazi didn’t waste time. He turned to Taylor and Yori, their trusted receptionist and tattoo artist, already working the buzzing crowd.

“Hold down the shop until I get back,” he ordered, his voice leaving no room for debate.

Taylor nodded, worry flashing across her face. Yori gave him a chin lift, already sliding on gloves to cover the next appointment.

And just like that, A’Mazi led his baby sister out the door, holding her up when she couldn’t hold herself.

A’Mazi’s Charger flew down the streets like they were running from something, tires screeching at every turn, the engine roaring through the heat of the day. Ahzii pressed a hand to her mouth, stomach rolling harder with every mile.

“I get you’re worried, but I’d at least like to make it to the hospital,” she said, voice sharp, fighting the nausea.

A’Mazi smirked, eyes on the road.

“I’m just trying to get your sick ass there before you throw up on my leather seats.”

She rolled her eyes but didn’t have the energy to argue.