After Family Day, Maya didn’t say much as they walked to the car.


Zaire bounced between them, paper crown slipping sideways on his head, sticky fingers gripping both their hands.


Darius opened the door and helped buckle him in, wiping glitter from the seat before sitting back.


Silence filled the car for a moment before Maya finally spoke.


“You made him smile.”


Darius nodded. “That was the goal.”


She stared ahead. “I don’t want you in and out his life. I don’t want him waiting at windows.”


“I know.”


“You keep saying that,” she said, turning toward him. “But what happens when the block calls again? What happens when Mo gets locked up or Malik makes bail or somebody else offers you the world to come back?”


Darius let the words hang.


“I say no,” he finally replied. “I keep saying no. Even when it’s hard.”


Maya looked at him for a long time.


“You trying.”


He met her eyes. “I am.”


“And if you mess this up—”


“I’ll own it.”


She nodded once.


Then turned away.


“Good,” she said. “Because he deserves a father. Not a ghost.”


That night, Darius sat at Marla’s office desk with his new work schedule in hand—his first official paycheck coming next Friday.


“Not much,” she said, glancing over the numbers. “But it’s honest.”


“I ain’t never had a job with direct deposit before,” Darius muttered.


Marla smiled. “You ain’t never had this much to lose either.”


He nodded.


“You gonna tell your crew?” she asked.


“I don’t owe them nothing.”


“You sure?” she said gently. “Sometimes we break away from our old life, and it makes us a target. You need to know that.”


“I already do,” he said.


Marla leaned in. “Then keep your head up. Build quiet. Stay focused. And never apologize for choosing peace.”


That night, as Darius walked back to Mo’s spot to gather the last of his stuff, he found a package sitting at the door.


No note.


No signature.


Just a box.


He opened it slowly—hands tense, jaw tight.


Inside: a toy. Zaire’s favorite red truck.


And a cracked picture frame.


One of the last family photos they ever took.


His face was the only one slashed out.


Underneath, one line was written in permanent marker:


“Family don’t forget betrayal.”