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I wiped down the dining room table for the third time in the last hour, the scent of lemon cleaner strong in the air

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I wiped down the dining room table for the third time in the last hour, the scent of lemon cleaner strong in the air. The cloth in my hand moved in slow, deliberate circles, more out of routine than any real purpose.

My mind felt like a tangled mess—thoughts running wild, emotions on edge. It had been four days since my boyfriend got shot, and I'd been trying to keep it together ever since. The house felt different, heavier, like the walls were closing in on me. Cleaning was the only thing keeping me from breaking down.

If mi nuh find summ constructive fi duh mi Aguh mad.

No one else knew what had happened. Not even Niyoka, and she was his sister. I'd been told not to say anything, and I didn't. I knew how close she was to him, how much she'd panic if she knew. And I couldn't add that weight to her shoulders, especially when I had my own secret to protect—I was pregnant. It wasn't the right time to tell anyone, especially not when everything was already falling apart.

I kept scrubbing the furniture, moving to the coffee table next, trying to drown out the noise in my head. Each stroke of the cloth was a distraction from the image of him lying there, bleeding, the panic in my chest that hadn't left since that night.

I hated feeling this helpless. I wanted to be there for him, to do something, anything, but all I could do was wait.

Suddenly, I heard the front door creak open, breaking the tense silence that had filled the room. My heart jumped into my throat as I turned around, the cloth slipping from my hand onto the floor.

My eyes widened when I saw Zach—standing in the doorway, looking like he'd been through hell but still standing. Relief washed over me like a tidal wave, and I didn't think. I just ran to him.

"Oh my God, finally!" I threw my arms around him, holding him tight. I was so overwhelmed with joy and relief that I didn't even notice the pained grunt that escaped his lips. All I could think about was that he was here, alive, and in my arms again. My fingers dug into his back as I held on, afraid that if I let go, he might disappear.

"Easy, easy," he murmured, his voice strained. I immediately pulled back, realizing I'd pressed too hard on the wound where he'd been shot.

"Oh, I'm sorry!" I gasped, my hands instinctively going to his side, checking to see if I'd hurt him. "Yuh good? I didn't mean to—"

"It good babe," he cut me off, though his face tightened in pain. "Just... careful."

It was then that I noticed the other person standing just outside the door. My heart sank when I recognized leng, What was he doing here? He seemed to be keeping his distance, his hands shoved deep into his pockets.

"Just come fi drop him off," he said, glancing between the two of us. "Remember what we talked about," he added, looking back at my boyfriend. There was something in his tone—serious, almost like a warning.

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