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Asher

Placing the bowl of pasta in front of me, my grandmother smiled and ran a hand over my hair.

"So handsome." She smiled at me. I smiled back.

She walked around the dining table, running her hand over Aaliyah's shoulders as she went.

Aaliyah smiled down at her plate at her grandmother's touch, obviously feeling the same warmth from her that I did.

My grandma just had an air about her. Everyone enjoyed being in her presence as she exuded warmth, comfort, peace. No wonder Mom had us all staying with her.

Our house had become a circus over the last year, from Dad's campaign to his arrest. There was constant noise, people, conversations, hustle and bustle.

The press had almost taken up residence outside of the gates of the house, despite constantly being moved on by the security guards.

Mom was too afraid to keep living in our house, to keep sending Aaliyah to school. She believed that someone would break into the house. She thought that Aaliyah would be targeted at school. Mom was living in fear of something happening to us, especially after learning the truth about how I got my injuries.

So she moved us a few miles away to live with her mother until after Dad's trial.

Told us she was doing it to keep us safe. To protect us.

What she didn't tell us was that Dad was out on bail and was living back at the house, kind of like being under house arrest. The police told me. Had to. Because he'd abused me, they had to make sure that I was okay.

And I was.

I was safe.

Away from him.

I didn't want to see him.

Didn't want to hear from him.

Didn't want to talk to him.

And it was clear that Mom felt the same way.

She'd asked to take our phones away. Said she didn't want us to have to deal with strange calls from anyone, especially our father.

When I told her what had happened to my phone, she'd burst into tears, hugging me, telling me she was sorry.

A line she was using a lot lately.

It was like she felt guilty for making us stay with Dad. For choosing the lavish lifestyle over her kid's happiness.

Something told me that would change now though.

So, I comforted her. Told her it was going to be okay. That I didn't blame her. Hugged her back.

And this had distracted her enough to not ask Aaliyah for her phone. Which my sister was grateful for as she was constantly sending messages to her friends at school.

Pre-teen girls.

I would never understand them.

"Asher." I looked at my grandmother as she said my name. She was sitting opposite me at the table. "Would you like to say a prayer of thanks before we eat?"

I wasn't a religious person, but my grandmother was. She went to church every Sunday without fail. Absolutely adored the pastor of her church. Loved sitting with her friends during his services.

So I smiled at her and did as she wanted.

She had welcomed us all into her home. Made sure we all had enough to eat. Hugged us when we needed it. Sat and listened to us if we wanted to vent. The least I could do was say a prayer at the dinner table.

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