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"You got the parts?" Uncle Aaron asked as his nephew stepped through the door.
"I'm here after a full day of doing school work, ain't I?" Miles dropped the dark green box onto the island.
"You know damn well you ain't dedicate no full day to school work," Uncle Aaron chuckled, pulling out his ringing phone to answer it.
Miles took a seat on the leather sofa, pulling out his own phone. He shot Y/n a text, remembering they had swapped numbers.
You got home safe?
yeah , thanks for asking .
So we cool?
Uncle Aaron mumbled to himself while shuffling through the box. "How she gon' give us the parts for the claw and not provide the right screws?"
"Miles," Uncle Aaron called.
"Yo," Miles replied, glancing up but not really looking away from his phone.
"You ain't check the box before you brought it to me?" Uncle Aaron asked, still searching through the box.
Miles stood up and walked over to see what his uncle was talking about.
"I ain't have the time. You can't work with this?" Miles picked up a piece to examine it, then glanced at his uncle.
"Nah, man. Farris gon' have to tighten up, 'cause this... this is bullshit," Uncle Aaron muttered, irritation seeping into his tone before he walked off.
_________________________________________
Y/n's POV
Ms. Farris is like a grandmother to me. She was my mom's best friend and stepped up to help raise me and my brother, Julian, after our father passed. That time was hard on all of us, but what really crushed us was when our mother got life in prison for a crime our father committed. Ms. Farris took on the role of our guardian and did her best to make sure we were straight. She kept us in school, taught us how to hustle, and made sure we stayed down.
Then my brother died. My other half was gone. To this day, I refuse to believe his death was justified just because people thought he was a bad guy. No justice came from it. He wasn't a bad person; he just got mixed up with some bad people. But don't we all? Now, there's only two people I trust and consider family—one of them is Ms. Farris.
"I know who killed Jul." I walk into Ms. Farris's house and see her usual workers scattered around the living room.
Ms. Farris slowly rises from her iconic reclining chair, making eye contact with me. All the murmurs I had heard when I came in die down, and it's just me and her standing there.
