Page 95 of Riot

His face was older now, sharper around the jaw, his frame bigger, broader—but his eyes… they were the same. The same ones that used to watch cartoons with me under a blanket. The same ones that used to sneak me extra snacks when Mama wasn’t looking. His whole expression cracked open as he stepped forward, and I didn’t think, I just ran to him.

He wrapped his arms around me like he didn’t want to let go. Like he wasn’t sure I was real.

I buried my face in his shoulder and squeezed tighter. His scent hit me. It was faint cologne, city air, and marijuana that made my eyes sting.

“Damn,” he whispered. “You’re really here.”

I nodded against him, my throat too tight to speak.

He pulled back just enough to look at me, both hands still gripping my arms. “You look like her. Like Ma.”

“So do you,” I said.

We both laughed a little, like we didn’t know what else to do with all this emotion crowding in.

“I still can’t believe it,” he said. “Diori texted me and I thought it was a joke or some cruel scam. But then she sent me your picture and—” He shook his head. “I didn’t sleep all night.”

“Neither did I,” I said, the words barely a whisper.

He motioned to the café. “Let’s sit. You hungry?”

I nodded again. But really, I just wanted more time. More space to look at him. To remember him. To hold on to something familiar.

As we walked inside, I kept stealing glances at him. This was my brother. My blood. After everything, after ten years of silence and confusion and darkness, he was still here.

And now, maybe, I’d finally get the answers I needed.

We slid into a corner booth by the window, in an area where we could people watch. But I didn’t need to people watch. I needed to connect with my big brother.

Carmelo sat across from me, arms on the table, eyes locked on mine like he was afraid I might vanish again if he looked away. His expression was unreadable, equal parts awe, sadness, and something fierce beneath the surface.

“I’ve missed you,” he said, voice low but steady. “Every day. Every year. I used to pray you’d come walking back through the door. Even when everyone said you were gone for good, I held out. I always thought, somehow, you’d find your way back.”

Tears pricked the corners of my eyes, but I blinked them away. I couldn’t fall apart, not yet. “I missed you too,” I said, my voice catching in my throat. “There were nights I would dreamabout you. About us as kids. I held on to that when things got… bad.”

He swallowed, his jaw tightening. “I should’ve looked harder.”

“You were a kid too,” I reminded him gently. “It wasn’t your job to find me.”

Carmelo leaned forward, eyes burning into mine. “You stay with me so I can look after you.”

The words caught me off guard.

“I’ve got space. A spot uptown. It ain’t the most peaceful, but it’s safe. It’s just me and my wifey…” He paused, dragging a hand down his face. “I don’t want to let you out of my sight again.”

I opened my mouth, but the answer didn’t come easily.

The truth was, I didn’t want to stay with him. I wanted to go home, to Riot’s place. Riot was the only person I felt safe with. I knew he could take care of me better than my brother. Besides, Harlem was growing on me. I loved being there amongst so many other artists. I was finally coming back to life there and I didn’t want to give it up.

But I couldn’t just say that. Not to Carmelo. Not when we were still stitching ourselves back together.

“I just need a few days,” I said instead, choosing my words with care. “There’s some things I have to figure out.”

He nodded, but I could see the disappointment in his eyes, even if he tried to hide it. “Yeah. Okay. Just don’t disappear on me again.”

“I won’t.” I forced a small smile, hoping it was enough to reassure him. “I promise.”

He dug into his jacket pocket and pulled out a scrap of paper. “Here. It’s Ma’s number. She moved to Baltimore after everything with Dad… but she’s coming to New York soon. She’s been talking about it for a while. When she finds out you’re alive…” He trailed off, shaking his head. “She’s gonna lose it.”

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