Page 108 of The Last Man on Earth
She nods, but what the fuck does that even mean? It’s just money. She’d rather have her son back.
I get her out of the bathroom finally, but I feel hollow after, like I left part of my soul in there.
I take out my phone and text my assistant.
Need some shit handled. Find me a baby doctor. Security. A driver. A nutritionist. A house in ATL. And keep this shit close.
I hit send and feel a little bit of weight lifted. It ain’t much. It ain’t even the half. But it’s something.
Chapter 55
Ari
Captain Harris’ funeral issmall and somber.
It’s not like the homegoings I’m used to. There’s no celebration here, no exuberant send off. It’s just sadness.
I pay my respects to his family, who all look happy to see me alive and well.
Well, I'm alive at least.
I don’t know aboutwell.
Me and my belly are done with funerals. Captain Dorsey’s was yesterday. I feel bad for feeling relieved, but it’s just too much grief for me, especially when I’m still processing everything.
Vincent, though—I remember what Ashara said. He has five people to grieve. So even though it hurts, I guess it makes sense that we haven’t talked since we’ve been back.
By the time the Uber drops me back off at my parents’ house in Tally, my head feels like it’s full of fog.
And I think I’m finally ready to call Luca.
On the way up the driveway, I pass a black SUV and wonder who’s visiting. Then I catch a glimpse of today’s newspaper—Daddy still gets the print edition. The headline is annoying.Stranded for 268 Days: Rapper Vincent “Villain” Newcastle and Flight Attendant Found Alive on Remote Island
I roll my eyes at it and keep walking.
Inside, it looks like a flower shop exploded. There have to be at least ten dozen roses. Maybe more.
And we have a guest.
An older black woman stands in the living room, tablet in hand, smile too bright.
“Hi,” I greet her as I toe off my shoes. “Are you here to see my parents?”
“No, dear. They let me in. I’m here to seeyou. My name is Dorinda.”
“Nice to meet you. I’m Ariana. Why—“
“I’m your personal coordinator. Hired by Mr. Newcastle.”
I ease onto the couch and blow out a sigh. “My what?”
She gives a small laugh. “Your personal coordinator,” she repeats like that’ll make it plain. “Mr. Newcastle hired me to handle all logistics on your behalf.”
“Logistics?”
“Yes. He’s made arrangements for you to see a Dr. Connie Ellery. She’s one of the best obgyns in Atlanta.”
“I don’t live in Atlanta.”
