THERE IS NOTHING, NOTHING THAT TOUCHES me anymore. The invisible thing that I have been seems fitting now. I don’t want to be seen, for once. Keep the phone in my hand at all times so people will know I’m busy and not bother to ask me anything.
I see the effects of Raheem’s betrayal everywhere. The legal aid lawyers come by, gearing up for Slim and Rocco’s defense. They’ve not been let out of jail. The court is not letting us bail them out, for reasons no one seems to understand.
I miss Rocco’s presence in the office. We thought they would be home by now, able to go about their business, just with a court date hanging over their heads. Cherry’s eyes are puffy behind her shades, and even though she won’t admit it, I know it’s because she misses Slim.
She says only one thing to me about any of it. I come up to her in the office to show her I’m wearing the lipstick she got me. I feel so pretty and grown-up in spite of everything. She tips my chin up with her finger, looks at me, and says, “Yes. It suits you.”
I lean in and hug her. “Cherry.” It feels right because I know that she has lost something, and I know that I have too.
She wraps her arms around me and whispers, “Maxie, sugar, don’t put off anything you want. Not a thing. Not even for a minute. Just go get it, because you don’t know when it’s going to be gone.”
And that’s the end of it. I wish it was that easy for me, knowing what I want. To top it off, I’m all alone in this. Raheem told me not to tell Sam, not to tell Emmalee. When he said it, I was so sure I would break that directive the second I walked away. But now I realize how true it is. I can’t confide in anyone.
Sam strides across the office like he knows. Knows everything. I have to turn away.
“Maxie,” he says, and I put up my hand like “don’t even start.”
He can’t know. No one can. I hold secrets well. It’s something I’m good at. I run my mouth, sure, but not about what’s real.
“Not here.” The envelopes blur beneath my gaze. “Later.”
I’m going to have to tell him. Apologize. Admit defeat and helplessness and everything horrible. He’ll hate me.
They’ll all hate me. For holding the secret. For not telling sooner. For being his sister.
“Let’s go outside,” Sam says. His eyes are reading me. Worried. Caring. I ache inside. Heart. Stomach. Way down low in the belly.
The window beckons. White light pouring in through the space around the curtains. I want to walk out with him. We’ve always been that way, needing space around us. Inside, breathing close, everything presses on us and we can’t get out from under.
I want to take the hand he holds out to me, but . . . what happens a moment later? I’ll speak the things I can’t take back and everything will be over. No one wants anything to do with a traitor.
Around the room, everyone’s working different tasks. Jolene and her adding machine. Leroy by the bookcase, surely thinking up words to use later. Hamlin reads aloud from a magazine, something that causes the people closest to him to be all smiles. Cherry tosses her hair and laughs, throaty and rich. Others join in, a happy chorus.
Sam turns toward them too. Toward the brief flash of joy lighting up the air. It’s not a thing you can look away from so easy.
Shining, intense laughter, the kind that tastes like it’s everything. Moment to moment, it all matters. After Steve. After the office assault. After Slim and Rocco, and all the cats behind bars. It could be over in an instant. The bullet hits and we all meet whatever god or devil’s waiting, and knowing me, I say something stupid and end up damned for eternity in a sloppy hellhole. Worse than the gutter. So low.
I blink back everything. Panthers don’t cry.
Boots on the floor. Eyes forward.
“I have work to do.”