Page 35 of Forced Into Your Arms
“No. He just kept asking questions.” She paused before adding, “I didn’t think anything of it at the time. Sam was always getting curious about something, but now…” Her voice trailed off.
“Now what?”
“Now he’s dead.”
For some reason, my eyes shifted down to his phone again.
“You think it had something to do with why he was at that hospital?”
“I don’t know. That’s why I called you.”
Neither one of us said anything for a while. I didn’t know what Sam could’ve possibly been looking for in my mother’s past, but I knew one thing for damn sure—he hadn’t been asking those questions for no reason.
“Auntie, think… Did he ask you anything else?”
“I’m trying.”
“Did he mention anybody? A name? Somewhere he was going?”
“No.” She sounded frustrated now. “I already told you everything I remember.”
“A’ight… Don’t say any of this to anyone. The detectives or anyone. Okay? ”
“Okay, I won’t… I just thought you should know…” There was a moment of silence before she called my name. “Kaiden...”
“What’s up?”
She sighed. “I love you.”
“Love you too.”
I ended the call and set my phone down.
For the first time since Sam died, I had something.
It wasn’t much, and I didn’t understand how any of it connected, but Sam had been asking questions about mymother and the father I’d never known days before somebody killed him.
Then he’d gone to Grady.
Then Milan heard him telling somebody I deserved to know the truth.
I picked up Sam’s phone and stared at the locked screen again.Tomorrow, I was getting into this mothafucka…One way or another.
5
MILAN RIVER
Iwas finally starting to settle into something that felt like a routine. Work kept my mind busy, which was exactly what I needed. The second things slowed down, my thoughts had a habit of drifting back to the parking garage, the sound of gunshots, and the look on Sam’s face when he stumbled toward me.
That night wasn’t sitting as heavy on my chest as it had before. I’d stopped blaming myself for not saving him, even if a small part of me still wondered whether I could’ve done something different. Nia told me that feeling would eventually fade. I wasn’t completely convinced, but I was trying to believe her.
I stood at the nurses’ station updating a patient’s chart while Nia sat beside me complaining about the lunch she’d ordered.
“I paid almost twenty dollars for that food, and they sent me three little pieces of chicken,” she said, holding up thecontainer like I was supposed to investigate the crime. “Look at this shit.”
I glanced inside before looking back at her. “Maybe they thought you were on a diet.”
“Who told them to think?”
