By Tuesday, Maya had made three more online sales and been featured on a local Instagram page that shouted out Black-owned beauty brands in the city.


It felt like things were finally turning.


Until the power went out.


She was mid-bottle prep, testing a new flavor called “Soft Armor”, when the kitchen lights blinked once… then died completely.


Zaire started crying in the living room.


Maya froze.


She checked the hallway—no light.


Then the street.


The neighbors still had power.


Only her house was dark.


She grabbed her phone. Battery low. Twenty-three percent. The last text she received?


From Devin. About meeting with an attorney friend who could help with business paperwork.


But now she wasn’t thinking about paperwork.


She was thinking about Darius.


An hour later, the landlord still hadn’t answered.


Maya lit candles and sat on the couch with Zaire wrapped in a blanket. He was calm now, half-asleep in her arms.


Her phone buzzed.


Devin:

Hey. I’m around the corner. You still good to talk tonight?


Maya:

Power’s out. Don’t know why. Can you come by?


Less than five minutes later, there was a knock. Three times. Firm. Familiar.


She opened the door.


Devin stepped in, already looking concerned.


“Just you?” Maya asked, peeking past him.


“Yeah. What’s going on?”


She explained. Showed him the breaker. Called the landlord again while he watched.


Voicemail. Again.


Devin frowned. “Let me check the meter outside.”


He disappeared for a few minutes. Came back with tension in his shoulders.


“Someone cut it,” he said. “Deliberate. Wires are clipped.”


Maya’s chest tightened.


“You sure?”


He nodded. “Whoever did it knew what they were doing. This wasn’t an accident.”


She looked down at Zaire. Then back at Devin.


“You think it was him?”


“I can’t say for sure. But I wouldn’t put it past him,” Devin said. “You said no. You’re succeeding. Some people don’t know how to handle that.”


Maya’s voice cracked. “What do I do?”


“You press charges. You document. You protect yourself.”


She shook her head. “The cops won’t care. Not until he puts hands on me again. Or worse.”


Devin looked her in the eye. “Then we don’t wait.”


He reached into his jacket. Pulled out a small, black object.


A taser.


“It’s not much. But it’s something. Keep it near you.”


Maya hesitated, then took it.


For once, protection didn’t feel like weakness.


It felt like power.