Trigger warning: This chapter contains sensitive mentions of substance abuse, abandonment, and complicated family dynamics. Please read with caution.
~~~
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Three days after the crazy events at the Mujulizi Art Gallery, we were huddled in yet another hospital lounge at Valley Care Hospital, waiting for news about Latoya's sister, who we'd transferred to Kisho Valley to make things easier for everyone. She had woken up that morning, and the doctors had requested that a guardian be present to answer the questions of the social worker who was due to arrive any minute now.
Latoya and Cheyenne sat next to each other, the two of them discussing logistics and making plans for all the possible outcomes of Valerie's stint in hospital, and Alex, who was working that day, would drop in from time to time to check on Cheyenne.
"I spoke to DJ's mom yesterday," Cheyenne was telling Toya, her voice grim and withdrawn.
"And?" Toya asked with a tight jaw.
"She believes Valerie stole seven hundred jiris from her to get to Musomi and attend the launch at the gallery." Cheyenne provided. "She's pissed off, talking about how DJ's children are all good for nothing and stuff I really don't even want to say. Basically, she wants nothing to do with Val anymore. She says she'd better find someone to stay with because she's no longer welcome in her home."
Toya looked towards the closed door of Valerie's hospital room, her gaze distant, thoughtful. "The stealing makes sense. She's fifteen. I'm pretty sure most fifteen-year-olds don't have four hundred jiris for a ticket to an art exhibition just lying around."
"If she did steal it, then she was intentionally there," Chey said, echoing thoughts I'd had for days now. "She was all alone. Drunk and high. I highly doubt she went with an interest to see some artwork."
"You think she sought us out intentionally?" Toya said, catching Cheyenne's drift. "You think she was keeping up with our lives?"
"We're both linked to famous people," Cheyenne shrugged, "it's not a farfetched thought."
"I wonder what she wanted..." Toya said, her eyebrows furrowing.
"Whatever it is, she'd better not be trying to stress you out," I voiced indignantly. "That won't fly here."
"Facts," Alex said out of nowhere, walking through the open door. "Your mom and brothers have arrived, msichana mrembo. They'll be up here in about fifteen minutes."
"Okay, baby," Cheyenne nodded and blew out a breath. "Gosh, I hope this little family reunion isn't insufferable."
"Same," Toya agreed. "I literally can't handle any more drama."
I took her hand in mine, silently reassuring that I was right there for her. The minutes ticked by slowly, with both Latoya and Cheyenne nervously waiting to see their mother again. When she was back in England, she communicated with Toya here and there, but the conversations were often awkward and strained with long silent pauses they struggled to fill.
