“No, don’t leave me,” she whispered. “Not yet.”
“I have to go . . . Miss Margaret.” I was still unsure of what to call her. I mean, despite the recent revelation, I didn’t feel comfortable calling her Mama or anything like that. Those epithets were reserved for the woman who’d raised me.
“Can you come back tomorrow? Roman will be here, and I’d like for you to meet . . . your brother,” she pleaded. “I’m dying. I know I am. Please, I need to tell both of you.”
“Tell me now,” I said.
“Tomorrow, with Roman,” she whispered and drifted off again.
It wasn’t much information, but she had at least acknowledged that Roman was my brother. No more wondering about that.
I slipped out of the room when she was finally in a deep sleep, and I spent the ride home struggling with this new reality. Who was I? At one point, I reached for my phone to call the one person that I usually told everything, but I put it down when I realized this wasn’t something I could say to her over the phone. This news would affect Paris too, and I had to give it to her face to face.
I pulled into our driveway and parked behind a black SUV that I didn’t recognize. Inside, I heard my parents, along with Junior and Vegas, talking in the living room. Then I heard Consuela’s voice and realized it must have been her car outside. Even if I was ready to talk to my parents about Roman Johnson, now wasn’t the time.
I was about to make a beeline upstairs to my room when Paris appeared.
“Where the hell have you been? I been calling your ass forever.”
“Sorry. I had to take care of something important. I had my phone on Do Not Disturb.”
“For the entire damn night?”
“I said sorry, Paris.” I turned to leave, but she snapped at me.
“Look, I saw Sebastian’s little IG post saying his heart is in New York, but just because y’all are fucking again doesn’t mean you get to ignore your family. There’s important shit going on, you know.”
I glanced toward the living room, where I could still hear everyone’s voices. “I know. I have something important to tell you too.”
“Not as important as the fact that Nevada’s been missing since the day before yesterday,” she said.
“That ain’t funny, Paris.” She always said stupid shit just to get me riled up. She knew how close my nephew and I were.
“I’m not laughing, Rio. Serious shit, he’s run away. That’s why Consuela’s here.” Paris tilted her head in the direction of the family room.
“What the fuck’s going on? Why would he run away?” I put aside Roman, Margaret, and any other bullshit that was clouding my mind. Nevada was my little man.
“Everyone seems to think it’s because he didn’t wanna go to boarding school,” she replied. “Not that I could blame him.”
“This is fucked up.” I turned and headed toward the family room with Paris hot on my trail. “I thought Mom was supposed to talk to Consuela about that.”
“Apparently not before Nevada went ghost.”
They all turned to look at me as I strode into the room.
“Rio, have you heard from Nevada at all today?” My mother walked over and touched my arm, her face full of worry.
Vegas stood up from the sofa. “Is that why you been ignoring our calls? I swear, Rio, if you know where my son is, you’d better tell me.”
“I haven’t talked to him in a couple of days,” I told him. “You know if I did, I’d tell you.”
“Can you think of anywhere he’d be?” my mother asked.
“I told you he’s probably with that girl,” Consuela snapped. She was trying to play hard, but her red eyes were evidence she’d been crying.
“And I keep asking you what girl you’re talking about, Consuela.” Vegas shook his head.
“It was the girl at the library,” she barked back at him. “He said they went to school together, but she was studying from a GED book. How many times do I have to tell you this?”
“Does this girl have a name?” Dad asked.
Consuela folded her arms and shrugged. “I don’t . . . I can’t remember.”
“Have you all checked his social media? Maybe there’s something there. A picture of the girl?” I took out my phone and pulled up Nevada’s Instagram. “What’d she look like?”
“She was pretty. Black mixed with something, probably Asian,” Consuela replied.
Vegas and I locked eyes, confirming we were both thinking the same thing.
“You think?” I asked Vegas.
He nodded.
I looked down at my phone and began scrolling until I came to the photo from the day we went to the water park. I walked over to Consuela and showed her the screen. “Is this her?”
“Sí! That’s the girl he was with at the library. You know where she lives?”
I looked over at Vegas. I didn’t want to say anything that might make things worse. Consuela could fly off the handle pretty easily, and this information wouldn’t sit well with her.
“I know where to find her,” Vegas said.
“You do? Where?” Consuela asked.
He didn’t answer right away, probably trying to figure out a way to handle this without mentioning the M word.
“Vegas?” Consuela said. “What are you not telling me?”
He took a deep breath. “She stays at Marie’s.”
Consuela narrowed her eyes at him. “What did you say?” I could hear the rage simmering in her voice.
“She works for Marie,” Vegas admitted.
And why the hell did he do that? Consuela jumped up and started cursing in Spanish, her arms flying everywhere like she wanted to punch someone.
“Shit,” my mother muttered under her breath.
Pop moved quickly
