TRAP INHERITANCE

Back On The Block

"Don't let nobody decide who you are," he told me once, hands gripping the wheel as we stopped at a red light. "Not teachers, not boys, not even me. You hear me?"

I nodded. I was only twelve, but I heard him. Understood him.

He looked at me in the rearview. "You gon' be somebody, Ko. Just don't rush it."

That was one of the last Saturdays I remember before everything went to shit. Before he stopped showing up with music and bacon and stories. Before the calls went unanswered and the mornings got colder.

"Food's here." Azaria called from the other side of the bathroom door.

"Give me five." I replied before getting out the shower.

I dried off slow. Took my time getting dressed. Gray leggings. Oversized graphic tee. A fresh pair of black socks. No makeup. I didn't care how I looked today. I wasn't here to impress nobody. Just get this over with and go back home to Indianapolis.

Azaria was already halfway through her plate when I came out the bathroom. "Yo greedy ass ain't think to wait?"

She shrugged, a piece of waffle halfway to her mouth. "I ain't gotta wait for you to eat and you were in there forever. Shower sounded like a whole therapy session."

I rolled my eyes and sat across from her, picking at my own plate. Bacon, eggs, hash brown bowl with cheese on top and a biscuit that was already going cold. "Maybe it was therapy or a form of it."

Azaria glanced up. "You good?"

"I'm here," I said, mouth full. "That's all I got right now."

She didn't push. Didn't need to. She knew me. Knew when I needed to talk and when I didn't. Instead, she switched gears. "You know the lawyer's office is only about ten minutes from here, right?"

I nodded. "They only take appointments, so I booked us for 11:45. That cool?" She asked

Another nod.

Azaria put her fork down and wiped her hands. "You ever think about what property it is?"

"Every day since I got the call."

"Could be nothing. Could be a scam." She said.

"I know."

"You ready for that?"

I stared down at my plate. "I don't think anybody's ever really ready. You just show up and deal with it."

She didn't argue. Just let the silence sit there between us. Familiar and heavy. Not awkward though. More like a blanket we were both used to pulling over our heads when the world got scary and loud.

The car ride to the law office was quiet, but this time it wasn't tense. Just focused. My thoughts were moving too fast to talk anyway. What if it really was a setup/scam? What if somebody was watching us right now? What if we walked in and they told me I couldn't have it?

"Don't spiral," Azaria said, reading me like always.

I exhaled slow. "Trying not to."

The building was tucked between a bank and a pharmacy. Old brick, black trim, and a brass plaque that read Wilson & Marks Law. Unassuming enough that most people would walk past without a second look.

We parked nearby and walked to the building, Azaria reached for the door first. "Let's go find out what this is really about so we can handle it and go home."

The inside was quiet. Not dead, just calm. Clean carpet, dark wood walls, a couple fake plants in corners too neat to feel real. A front desk sat dead center, manned by a woman with pressed hair and red nails tapping a keyboard. She looked up, eyes flicking between us.