Page 242 of When a Soul Cries

Sol wasn’t trying to shut me out.

She had spent so much of her life handling shit alone that somewhere along the way, struggling quietly had become normal to her.

I still didn’t like it.

But I understood it.

And standing there now, watching her smile while we packed up the last of her things, I didn’t feel like arguing with the past anymore.

“Zari.”

I blinked.

Sol stood beside the open trunk staring at me.

“You coming?”

“Girl, damn. Yes.”

“You were just standing there.”

“I was thinking.”

Her eyebrows lifted. “That’s dangerous.”

I slowly turned my head toward her.

She grinned.

“Oh, you got jokes now?”

“Come on.”

We loaded the last few boxes, closed the storage unit and headed toward Eastview.

By the time we pulled into the community, I had complained about my back three more times.

But the second I stepped out of the car and looked around, my mouth closed.

Eastview was nice.

Not that fake nice where somebody threw gray paint on an old building, changed the cabinet handles and started calling it luxury.

Actually nice.

Rows of modern two-story townhomes stretched along clean streets, each with its own entrance. Light siding mixed with brick and darker accents gave the buildings character without making the place feel too fancy for regular people. Fresh landscaping bordered the walkways, and young trees had been planted throughout the property.

Families were already moving around the community.

A woman pushed a stroller down the sidewalk. Two little boys rode scooters near one of the buildings while their father stood nearby watching them.

It felt like a neighborhood.

I looked over at Sol.

She was staring at her townhouse.

The smile on her face was small, but I saw the pride behind it.