“She doesn’t feel some type of way about it? I mean, you did walk out on all her plans for you,” Dell points out.

“Actually, she’s gone out of her way not to talk about See Us in front of me. I told her it was okay if she did, but . . . she won’t.”

“Are you relieved it’s all done? No more marches, no more meetings . . .” Shawn adds.

“Yeah . . . of course,” I reply. I’m not sure if that’s the truth. There is a weight that’s been lifted since Mom let me go. I feel lighter, like I can finally breathe. But sometimes, I overhear pieces of conversation taking place between the trees, the wind, and the pavement. They whisper about me. They say, “Child, go where you belong. Go where you belong.” It’s only when I’m near people that they are quiet. I remind myself that it’s only been two days. And freedom takes getting used to.

“What about you, Dell? You ever had to tell your dad something that was hard to confess—and Kenny G doesn’t count,” I warn him.

Dell thinks for a moment. And when he speaks, I fear he’s going to say something crazy, but I’m wrong. “I had to tell my dad to stop calling my mom. He tried for so long to get her to come back. He wanted her to be a real mom to me, but . . . that’s not Dina’s thing. She wouldn’t even let me call her Mom. So what were the chances that I’d come home and she’d be baking and taking care of the house? I knew when she went on her ‘find myself’ vacation down south, she wasn’t ever coming back. But my dad had hope. It was killing him.

“So, I took it away. It was the right thing to do, you know? Hope is a hell of a drug.”

It’s rare for Dell to be serious. It’s even rarer for him to bring up Dina. I never liked that woman. Dell and his dad would do anything and everything to make her happy. But nothing was ever good enough. She was always taking off. She claimed it was because she had a “wandering spirit.” I say it’s because she’s toxic and trifling. Once she was gone, Dell and his dad started doing much better. They were all in for each other, like Shawn and his father.

The guys signal for me to look over at Naija. There are tears coming down her face. She’s trying to hide them from us by turning away, but it’s too late; we see them.

“Girl, you know you can tell us what’s wrong. We won’t judge you. Promise,” I assure her. I turn to Shawn and signal for him to add something to the conversation.