Page 63 of Rose

"Ma!" Ahzii’s voice cracked as she stepped into her mother’s home.

Her chest was tight, her mind a storm she couldn’t quiet.

After seeing William—seeing him in the flesh—and leaving the showcase last night, she had barely said a word.

Savior tried everything to get her to open up, but she couldn’t make her mouth form the truth.

Instead, he ran her a hot bath, held her while she cried herself hollow, and kept loving her in silence.

She had just started to heal. Just started to believe William was truly gone. Just started to let herself rise from the ashes and love again through Savior. But life wasn’t letting her have that peace.

That damn note William left her—the one with the address—was lodged in her mind like a thorn she couldn’t pull free.

Part of her needed to go. Needed the answers that only he could give.

But another part feared it would bury her right back in the grave of grief she had fought so hard to crawl out of.

She was unraveling. And she didn’t know how to think, what to do, or even what to feel.

Savior hadn’t wanted to let her out of his sight this morning. She lied. Told him she was fine. Told him she just needed a few hours alone with her mother. He didn’t like it, but he let her go.

So she came here. To the one place that still felt safe. To the one person who always knew how to steady her.

"Mama!" she called again.

The sliding door to the backyard opened and Bianca came rushing in, peeling off her gardening gloves. “Shugga! Ohh, I was worried sick after you rushed off stage and left the showcase last night.”

Before Ahzii could answer, her mother’s arms were around her, warm and grounding. She sank into them, letting herself melt into the only embrace that had ever made her feel small in the best way.

When they pulled apart, Bianca searched her face.

The tears came fast—hot, endless, and unstoppable.

“Sweetie,” her mother asked softly, “what’s going on?”

They moved to the living room, settling into the deep cushions of the sectional, the weight of the moment pressing down until Ahzii could barely breathe.

“Mommy…” Ahzii’s voice was barely above a whisper, but it trembled with the weight of something she had been choking on all night. “I saw William last night.”

Bianca froze, her eyes narrowing as she searched her daughter’s face. “You’re… having visions again?” she asked carefully.

Ahzii’s head snapped side to side. “No. This wasn’t a vision.

It was real.” Her words tumbled out faster, shakier with each breath.

“I saw him in the crowd while I was giving my speech… and that’s why I rushed off stage.

He followed me to the bathroom. I looked him in his eyes, Ma.

I know it was him. But how? I watched him take his last breath.

I watched him die in that fire. How is he still alive? ”

The panic in her voice rose with every word until her breathing turned shallow and erratic.

“Ahzii, calm down,” Bianca urged, scooting closer. Her voice softened into that steady, motherly tone that always used to bring her daughter back from the edge. “You’re going to make yourself have a panic attack. Breathe with me, shugga. Slow.”

Ahzii tried, but the air clawed into her lungs like it weighed a hundred pounds.

“Ma,” she pushed out between breaths, “I asked Kyre and A’Mazi if they buried his body… and they said no. Is that true? Is what I saw, what I heard, what I felt yesterday—was that really him? Really William?”

The room went silent. Bianca’s eyes glistened, but it wasn’t with surprise. It was something else. Something heavier.

“Baby…” Bianca’s voice cracked. “We wanted to keep this from you.”

Ahzii’s stomach knotted instantly. Tears blurred her vision as her chest rose and fell harder, faster. “Keep what, Ma? What are y’all keeping from me?” Her voice rose, each question sharper than the last. She needed answers. She needed them now .

Bianca swallowed, her guilt thick in the air. “William’s body wasn’t found in the house.”

The words hit Ahzii like a blow to the chest.

“After the investigation, the detective told me they only recovered one body. So we believed it was William’s. But when the report came back… it wasn’t him. The body belonged to one of the robbers.”

Ahzii’s pulse pounded so loud it drowned out the rest of the world. Her grief twisted into something darker—rage, disbelief, betrayal—until it burned in her veins.

“But A’Mazi said he saw him,” she fired back, her voice trembling but sharp. “He said when he carried me out—before the police even got there—he saw William’s body. He said he was dead.”

Bianca’s face was unreadable now, her voice low and unsure. “I don’t know how William’s body wasn’t found in that house.”

Ahzii stared at her mother like she was looking at a stranger. Everything she thought she knew was splintering apart in her hands, and she couldn’t tell if the pieces were worth putting back together.

“So it was a possibility that my husband survived that fire… and neither of you said a damn thing?” Ahzii’s voice was low at first, but the heat behind it was building.

“Shugga, you were battling too much,” Bianca said, her own voice trembling.

“You almost lost your life. Willow passed. We thought it was best to help you move on. There was no evidence of William being dead or alive, and we didn’t want you chained to…

to loving a ghost.” Tears slipped down her cheeks as she spoke.

Ahzii’s frown deepened, her breath hitching as anger swelled in her chest. “So instead, I’ve spent the last year mourning my husband on top of my daughter—thinking I lost them both—when I could’ve known the truth and looked for him.

I didn’t have to drown in this pain, in this grief of losing the two most important people in my life alone…

when my husband is actually alive!” Her voice cracked into a shout, the words slicing through the air .

Bianca stood too, the guilt heavy in her eyes. “Ahzii, you don’t know that for sure—”

“The hell I don’t!” Ahzii’s eyes were red, tears streaming, her heart pounding so hard it hurt. “I looked him in the eyes yesterday. I touched his skin. I kissed him. William is alive. And you— you three —knew it was a possibility all along!”

Her hands shook as she snatched her keys from the coffee table. She couldn’t stay here. Couldn’t sit in this house with secrets pressing in on her like walls.

“Wait—Shug! Let’s talk—” Bianca started, but the door slammed before she could finish.

Ahzii stormed to her bike, the engine roaring to life under her.

She didn’t care about the chill in the wind, didn’t care about the tears blurring her vision.

She was going to find him. The man she thought had died.

The man she had grieved. The man who had risen from the dead with part of her heart still in his hands.

???

Savior walked into Gold with one mission—lunch for Ahzii. She’d been gone since this morning, saying she needed to be with her mother, and he’d let her go because he knew she needed the space. But now it’d been hours. No returned calls. No answered messages.

He wasn’t the type to blow up someone’s phone, but this was different. The silence was gnawing at him.

He pushed through the door, greeting Chris at the front. “Wassgood, bruh. Pickup for Carter.”

“They finishing up now. Everything good with Ahzii?” Chris asked, his tone careful.

Savior gave a short nod, keeping his face neutral. He wasn’t about to spill his business in the middle of the damn lobby.

Then Sarai appeared, worry etched all over her face. “Savvy, hey.” She hugged him before pulling back, eyes searching his. “I tried calling you and Zii last night after y’all just rushed out. Is everything okay?”

Savior exhaled, dragging a hand down his beard.

He hated this feeling—helpless, useless.

The woman he loved more than anything was fighting something silent, something she wasn’t letting him touch.

Last night, she’d shaken in his arms until she cried herself to sleep. Every time he’d asked, she shut down.

He’d held her through nightmares before. He’d seen her at her lowest. But this was different. This felt like losing her all over again. The smile he’d fought to put back on her face was gone, replaced by that same guarded, wounded look she’d worn the first night he met her outside the barbershop.

It scared him more than he wanted to admit.

Sarai must have seen it too—the anger, the worry, the weight of not knowing, because she lowered her voice. “Let’s talk in my office.”

She glanced over at Chris. “Baby, can you bring his order to my office when it’s ready?”

Chris nodded, and Sarai motioned for Savior to follow her, the heaviness of what she might have to say hanging between them .

Savior followed Sarai into her office, glancing down at his phone on the way. Still nothing from Ahzii. Not a call. Not a text. His jaw locked so hard it ached.

Sarai shut the door behind them, leaning back against her desk, eyes locked on him. “Savior, what is going on?”

He stayed by the wall, arms crossed like he was holding himself together. “Man, Gold… I don’t know. Since last night, she hasn’t said a word. She’s been crying nonstop, shaking. It’s like she saw a ghost, and it scared the hell out of her.”

Sarai’s brows drew in. “Has she said anything to anyone? Because the way she froze up on stage and bolted—she had to see something that rattled her.”

Savior’s fists curled until his knuckles ached. “She ain’t said shit. And what the fuck could she have seen that would make her act like that?”

Sarai dropped her gaze for a moment, thinking hard, but nothing came.

A notification dinged. Savior’s head snapped to his phone. His pulse jumped—until he saw the name. Not her.

Sin: Got info on Jane Doe. Meet at the warehouse.

Sav: On the way.