𝐑𝐍𝟒𝐋

THIRTY

2 MONTHS LATER ....
SEPTEMBER

NAHZIR "DRACO"

Draco parked his car in the driveway, gripping the steering wheel for a moment longer than he needed to. He'd seen Marc a handful of times over the past two months, but every time felt heavier than the last. It was like his homeboy wasn't really him anymore, just some hollow version of the Marc he used to know.

Now, with Samir home, Draco hoped things would be different. Maybe the baby could be a light in all this darkness.

Draco climbed out of the car, grabbed the small bag of groceries he'd brought along, and headed to the door. He didn't bother knocking. He knew Marc wasn't expecting visitors, but that wasn't going to stop him.

Inside, the house was eerily quiet, save for the soft cooing of the baby somewhere down the hall. Draco followed the sound, his footsteps echoing slightly against the hardwood floors.

He found Marc in the living room, sitting on the couch with Samir cradled in his arms, as Ms Rachel
played on the tv. The baby's tiny fingers were wrapped around one of Marc's, and for a moment, Draco just stood there, watching.

Marc looked... worn. His hair was slightly unkempt, his clothes rumpled, and the bags under his eyes told the story of sleepless nights. But there was something softer about him now as he gazed down at Samir—something Draco hadn't seen in weeks.

"Yo," Draco said finally, his voice low but steady.

Marc glanced up, startled for a second before his expression settled. "What's good?" he mumbled, his voice hoarse from disuse.

Draco walked in, setting the grocery bag on the counter before taking a seat in the armchair across from Marc. He leaned forward, his elbows on his knees. "How you holdin' up?"

Marc shrugged, his gaze drifting back to Samir. "I'm here," he said simply.

Draco nodded, letting the silence settle for a moment before speaking again. "Look, I know this shit's been hard. Ain't nobody expect you to bounce back quick or nothin', but... you gotta start talkin' to people, man. Kiyari, Rashad, Tanyah—they worried about you. We all are."

Marc's jaw tightened, and for a second, Draco thought he might snap back. But instead, Marc just sighed, his shoulders sagging as if the weight of the world had finally caught up to him.

"I don't even know what to say," Marc admitted, his voice cracking slightly. "How am I supposed to talk to people when I can barely keep my head straight? Every time I look at him—" He glanced down at Samir, his voice trailing off. "It's like I see her, you know? And it hurts like hell, bruh."

Draco let the words sink in before he responded. "I feel you. I really do. But you can't shut everybody out forever. Feliciti wouldn't want that for you—or for him," he added, nodding toward Samir. "You don't gotta do this alone."

Marc was quiet for a long moment, his thumb gently stroking Samir's tiny hand. "I know," he said finally, his voice barely above a whisper. "I just... I don't know how to start. Feels like I'm stuck, like I'm not even me anymore."

Draco leaned back, crossing his arms over his chest. "You ain't gotta fix everything all at once. Start small. Hit up Yari. You know she's been wantin' to talk to you, but she ain't gonna force it."

Marc's lips pressed into a thin line, and he shook his head slightly. "I don't even know what to say to her, man. I know ion got shit to say to her. I understand that she's my sister, but she was also my sister the day of my baby shower and she wasn't acting like it."

"Say whatever's real," Draco said firmly. "She don't need no perfect speech or nothin'. Just let her know you still here. Start with that. I'm not saying everything has to immediately go back to how it was because it won't, but it's good to start somewhere."