Ahmeek snickered because little Yara Rae had her daddy shook. “Nah, Yolly’s good money, bruh. She gives the best hugs and kisses. Little girl knows how to turn your whole day around. Come on, bruh. She’s yours. She gon’ follow your lead. Your heart can’t be racing, or she’s going to feel like she ain’t safe. Like you don’t got her, bro. Put your hand on the back of her head and show her it’s okay,” Ahmeek said.

Messiah swayed back and forth and followed instructions to an exact science.

“Yo, she stopped crying,” Messiah whispered. He kissed the top of Yara’s head, and he felt her little chest lifting, then falling as she breathed. Her little heart was thumping in her chest, and she was tense, but the more he rubbed those circles on her back, the more she relaxed. He turned to Bleu.

“She stopped, B,” Messiah said in disbelief.

Bleu’s face was wet in emotion. “It’s a shame that anyone came between y’all. When you’re on the same team, it’s beautiful,” she whispered, wiping her tears. She stood. “I’m going to go.”

“Nah, B. You stay,” Ahmeek stated. “I’ma slide. Congrats, bro.” The shit tore him up because he loved these twins. He loved their mother. He wanted parts. He’d take on every role they’d needed filled, but he felt unneeded. Messiah was their father, and Ahmeek finally realized why taking them off Bash’s hands had felt natural, because Bash was unnatural to them. Now that he was in the presence of their real father, he felt the connection despite the twins’ hesitation; he could sense the innate ownership that only nature could nurture. The twins had been unsettled for hours and were already giving in to the exhaustion of the eventful day. “At least call her and let her know they’re all right.”

Ahmeek walked to the door and pulled it open.

“Yo, Meek,” Messiah called.

Ahmeek paused and turned.

Messiah couldn’t speak. Didn’t speak. He was too stubborn to say thank you but too indebted to hate him. He threw up that three-finger salute. A finger for him. A finger for Isa. A finger for Ahmeek. Crew shit. Hood shit. Ahmeek returned the gesture. So much reluctance between two men who loved each other dearly. This unspoken sign was all they had to extend to each other, and it was a tragedy.

As Meek went to close the door, he heard Messari’s sleepy voice as his head popped up off Bleu’s shoulder.

“Meek! You didn’t tuck us in!” Messari shouted. He scrambled from Bleu’s hold and raced across the apartment. Meek bent down so that he was eye level with Messari.

“Your daddy got it covered, homie,” Meek said.

“Noooo, youuuu, pweasseee,” Messari said as he pulled Meek’s hand.