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to pay someone to feed him his Thanksgiving meal. Not just that, he needed assistance for everything else too. That image warmed his heart, and a smile found its way to his lips. Like Iris said, maybe money wasn’t everything.

“How’s your team doing?” Iris asked.

“Good, Ma. They’re getting ready for the Christmas season.” Ryatt didn’t stutter when lying because he knew she always brought up his work whenever he was home. So he had prepared himself for her questions pertaining to that.

Ryatt had told her that he did not participate in the field anymore. He was now an assistant manager. People talked about football players, coaches, even managers, but not about assistant managers.

“I heard that your team made good headway in the tournaments,” Iris said.

“Yes, Ma. But I’m planning to change teams,” Ryatt said. If the team became too famous, then Ryatt ran the risk of being found out.

“Why? They give you good benefits.”

“We just lost an important match,” Ryatt lied again, feeling guilty because she would now try her absolute best to do her motherly bit.

“Failure is like a cement and every success is like a brick.”

“Cement and bricks?”

“Even if you have more than enough bricks to build a house, without the lessons that failure would have otherwise taught you, the wall will inevitably collapse in the long run and crush you. Dead under the weight of your own success. All you need to do is look at these teenage pop stars and millionaires and their meltdowns. They haven’t had the chance to become strong enough to handle success. Failure gives you character. It burns you, melts you, and molds you into a strong person who is able to handle the eventual, colossal success. Failure pressurizes you for a long time, but in the end, it makes you the best version of yourself.”

Ryatt felt guilty even more. She was bestowing her wisdom upon someone who would never use it.

He said in a tired tone, “Thanks, Ma. But I don’t wanna talk about work,” acting as if he was stressed and forlorn.

Iris said, “You’re not gonna find a solution to your problem ducking or pouting. Nothing good comes out of sadness and self-pity. A happy brain is a fertile brain. But sure, let’s digress if it’s spoiling your holidays.”

They both talked about her. She told him that the ‘Lawrence Foundation’ was attracting donors from around the city. This fall, she was expecting to send at least three boys to college. And her shop, which she still ran in the same neighborhood from the same disgusting building that used to be their home, did well. That neighborhood was notorious for crime, but she said that no one even thought about robbing Iris. Ryatt knew that because she was sort of like a beacon for unfortunate people living there.

When they finished eating, Iris collected the vessels and went to the kitchen. She didn’t accept Ryatt’s offer to lend her a hand. Not like Iris needed help. Actually, she could take better care of herself. Her sense of place was far better than inborn blind people.

He followed her in. As he watched her load the silverware into the dishwasher, his brain attached price tags to all the items inside their kitchen.

Out of the blue, she said, “That Leo is trouble.”

“I know, Ma. Won’t be friends with him no more,” Ryatt said. One of the oldest but most meaningless lies he had been telling her. And Iris knew it was a lie. But what could Ryatt do? He neither had the courage to challenge his mom nor the heart to abandon Leo.

“He is driving his stupid car,” she said, “playing that hackneyed Grandmaster Flash ‘The Message’. And he will be here… right about now.”

Lolly looked through the window, and surely, there was a white Hummer slowly coming to a stop. He closed his eyes and tried to listen to the trippy music, and after a few seconds, he could only hear bits of it.

How did she even…

When he opened his eyes, they were misty. Though not a role model, his mom had always been his hero. And now with this super-hearing ability, she became a superhero.

She said, “Come here.”

As he scrunched his tall frame, she held his shoulders and regarded his face, as if she could see him. Up close, Ryatt noticed her hair had started graying, the wrinkles on her face more prominent, but she looked stronger than ever. Ryatt had wondered if his mom was like The Terminator. She sure acted like she had an indestructible endoskeleton.

“I know they’ve been your friends for years,” she said. “But past attachment is not a reason to prevent you from disowning something that becomes toxic to you. Or to society.”

Ryatt nodded, and strangely, that always seemed to be enough for his mom. She gave a squeeze and let go.

He climbed back up the stairs and packed his things before exiting the house and sauntering across to the Hummer.

In the reflection of the Hummer’s dark tinted windows, his new house bore the biggest price tag of them all: $254,000.

Chapter 14

November 24, 1994. 03:27 P.M.

Ryatt had been caught red-handed in Charleston nine years ago, when boosting a Subaru. It was Thomas’s duty to ready cars for their jobs, but that morning he felt under the weather. So Ryatt, who’d never broken into cars, tried his luck. He was a robber after all. How tough could stealing a car be?

Turned out it was a completely different animal, requiring fineness and stealth, with a sprinkle of cowardice, none of which Ryatt possessed.

Seconds after he slid the slim jim in, blue and red flashed behind him. He tried to yank the tool out, but it was jammed. He pulled the hoodie over his head and started walking away hastily, leaving the shiny metal arching awkwardly from the car’s

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