Adopted by beyonce

Chapter 22: RIP WHO?! (Updated)

### Neveah's POV

I'm heading over to my mom's house today to talk to her about August. I'm just wearing a black romper, black sandals, and my hair is in wet curls. I put my princess in a white shirt with blue flowers, blue shorts, her white and blue sandals, and her hair in a messy bun.

### At Beyonce's House

**Neveah:** MOM, ME AND FAITH ARE HERE!!

It's weird. My mom usually comes rushing to the door, but this time, she didn't even come.

**Faith:** MWOMMY, GWANDMWA IS ON THWE FWOOR BWEEDING!

When I run to the kitchen, thinking Faith must be imagining things, I see my mom on the floor, coughing up blood. The only person who could have put her through this is Chris. I grab my phone and call 911.

### At the Hospital

**Doctor:** Neveah.

**Neveah:** Yeah, is my mom okay?

**Doctor:** Your mom was choked and punched severely while she was carrying her twins.

**Neveah:** WAIT?! Twins? Severe? Is my mom dead?

**Doctor:** I'm sorry, Neveah. Your mom died at 11:57 am this morning.

My mind goes blank. The words echo in my head as I struggle to comprehend what the doctor just said. My mom, gone? How could this happen?

**Neveah:** No, this can't be real. There must be some mistake.

**Doctor:** I understand this is very difficult, but your mom's injuries were too severe. We did everything we could.

**Neveah:** Who did this? How could this happen to her?

**Doctor:** The police are investigating. They'll need to speak with you soon.

Faith clings to my leg, her innocent eyes filled with confusion. She doesn't fully understand what's going on, but she knows something is terribly wrong.

**Faith:** Mwommy, is Gwandmwa coming back?

I crouch down to her level, trying to hold back my tears.

**Neveah:** No, sweetie. Grandma is... she's not coming back. She's with the angels now.

Faith doesn't quite grasp the concept, but she hugs me tight, sensing my sorrow.

The drive back home is a blur. My thoughts are a chaotic mess. Chris. It had to be him. His anger issues, his violence... he was always a ticking time bomb. But to do this to my mom, to my family...

Back at home, I sit down with Faith, holding her close. I need to be strong for her, but inside, I'm breaking. How do I explain this to a three-year-old? How do I even process it myself?

One night, as I'm putting Faith to bed, she looks up at me with those big, innocent eyes.

**Faith:** Mwommy, will we be otay?

I hug her tight, tears streaming down my face.

**Neveah:** Yes, baby. We will be okay. We have to be.

And in that moment, I vow to fight. For Faith, for my mom, for myself. Life has knocked me down, but I won't stay down. I will find justice for my mom, and I will give Faith the life she deserves.

The road ahead is uncertain, but I have to keep going. One step at a time, one day at a time. For Faith, for mom, and for me.