Alani looked at him, curiously. His type of manhood was an endangered species. She appreciated the pieces of his time he allowed her to spend with him. “Thank you, Ethic,” she said. She backpedaled. “I wouldn’t mind if you called me sometime. Maybe we could get coffee and you can tell me about who you were here to see. My number is on the paperwork at your shop.” She paused, as she stared at him, wondering how this man she barely knew brought so much comfort to her wounded soul. “Okay, bye.”

He nodded, as he watched her walk toward her car, knowing he would never call. He didn’t move until she drove away. He would have to keep his distance from her because seeing her face reminded him of the monster that dwelled in the pits of him. Hustling had hardened him, had made murder just another day’s work. That type of man was incapable of remorse and that type of man was one that karma couldn’t wait to meet. He never wanted his children to reap what he had sown, which is why he had walked away from the streets. Reacting to Lucas had pulled him back to a place where a father didn’t belong, and he hoped he didn’t lose everything he had built because of it.

13

Six Weeks Later

Morgan didn’t know why she was so anxious. This was the moment she had waited for her entire life. She sat on the exam table inside Dr. Hamady’s private office and her chest heaved up and down.

“You nervous?” Bella signed.

Morgan nodded.

“Everything’s going to be fine. The hard part is over. This is the final step,” Ethic signed to her.

“Can you hear me yet?” Eazy shouted. Morgan laughed, as she read his lips.

“Not yet, Eazy,” she signed.

Dr. Hamady entered the room and Morgan’s heart beat rapidly. What if it doesn’t work? she thought. Her hopes were high, and she knew she would be devastated if this didn’t end how she anticipated.

“Today’s the day,” Dr. Hamady said, as he signed simultaneously.

She nodded, as he examined the incisions behind her ears. Morgan had been in the mirror almost daily, monitoring the cuts, and putting different creams on them to minimize the scarring. They were practically invisible.

“You’ve healed beautifully,” Dr. Hamady signed. “Are you ready to turn on the implants?” he asked.

Morgan smiled, her nerves visible, as she shook her foot rapidly, trying to shake out some of the energy. The doctor pulled a rolling stool in front of her, and opened a laptop in his lap, as he powered on the control that activated the tiny devices that now lived in her head.