“I’m glad you see that. I’m gonna look into getting you into some kind of rehab program.”

  “I think I need that.”

  “You get some rest, and I’ll be back to check on you,” Sheba said and left the room.

  When she got downstairs, Chanel was on the phone with her husband, James, checking on him and their children.

  “I know that you have things to do,” an exasperated Chanel said. “And I told you, I will be home as soon as I can.”

  Sheba didn’t see her grandmother and knew where she was. She found her exactly where she expected—cooking in the kitchen.

  “What are you doing, Grandma?”

  “What does it look like I’m doing, child?”

  “You need to be in bed resting, Grandma.”

  “I’ve been in bed resting for the last two days. I’m tired of the bed. So I got a little cough. That don’t mean I can’t cook dinner for my family. Now either you’re gonna help me or you can go sit out there with Chanel.”

  “Just tell me what to do,” Sheba said, and her grandma motioned for her to join her at the stove and handed her a spoon.

  “Stir this,” Miss Pearl said of the gravy for the mashed potatoes.

  She set the corn on the cob to boil and went on to fry the chicken. Once the food was ready, Miss Pearl got Chanel off the phone to set the table while Sheba went to get Demi, but she said that she wasn’t hungry.

  As expected, cooking for everybody wore Miss Pearl out, and after dinner, she allowed Chanel and Sheba to clean her kitchen before she went upstairs to bed. Therefore, the topics of conversation as they did the dishes were their grandmother’s health, Demi, and the cost of drug rehabilitation.

  “How much does drug rehab cost anyway?” Sheba asked as she washed the plate and handed it to Chanel.

  “I don’t know,” she said, drying the plate and putting it in the dishwasher. Then Chanel dried her hands and took out her phone and searched for the cost of drug rehabilitation. “Rehab services and prices vary,” she reported as she read. “Most people go to a drug treatment center for a minimum of thirty days, and the cost is determined by the level of care.” She scanned the information. “Various levels of care for residential treatment cost twenty-five thousand dollars or more for thirty days.”

  “Damn, that’s a chunk,” Sheba said as she washed the serving dish. “But that really is what she needs.”

  “Where are we gonna get that kind of money?” Chanel asked as she dried the last dish and put it in the dishwasher.

  Sheba knew what she needed to do but was reluctant for some reason. “I’ll think of something.”

  “Let me know what you come up with,” Chanel said and picked up her purse to leave. “I’m going home so James can stop sending me ‘when are you coming home’ texts.”

  Sheba sat down at the table. “Call me tomorrow when you get free.”

  “Night, Sheba.”

  “Good night, Chanel,” Sheba said, watching her cousin leave the house.

  She sat there for a moment or two thinking about what to do, and then Sheba got up. She went to the refrigerator and made Demi a plate and took the food upstairs to her.

  “You need to eat something, Demi,” Sheba said when she came into the room.

  “I know,” Demi said and sat up to eat. “What did Grandma cook?”

  “Fried chicken.”

  “I haven’t had Grandma’s fried chicken in a while,” she said excitedly and bit into a drumstick.

  Sheba sat down on the edge of the bed while Demi tore into Grandma’s chicken. “You ready to tell me what happened?”

  Demi looked at her. “Not really, Sheba,” she said with her mouth full.

  “Why not?”

  Demi took another bite of chicken. “I don’t want you to think any less of me than you already do.”

  “I won’t think any less of you. You’re my cousin and I love you. I’m not here to judge you. I just wanna help. We all do.”

  “I know that,” Demi said and got started on the mashed potatoes. “And I know you love me,” she said with her mouth full.

  “Just tell me about the burns then. How’d that happen?”

  She exhaled. “Okay, if you really have to know.” Demi put the plate down. “I was fucked up, and I accidentally burned Ty with the pipe. This was what he did to me in response,” she said and showed Sheba the burn marks on her chest and arms.

  “My God, Demi,” Sheba said and shed a tear.

  Demi started to cry. “He just kept burning me, Sheba,” she said as the tears rolled down her cheeks. Sheba hugged her. “I said I was sorry. I said I wouldn’t do it again, but he hit me. I tried to run away from him, but he caught me and beat me. Then he forced me to have sex with him and Rick.”

  “They raped you.”

  Demi nodded and looked away in shame. “Then he told me that I was useless to him, and he made some woman drop me off here.”

  “I’m sorry, Demi,” Sheba said as her eyes filled with tears. “Sorry you had to go through that. But you’re safe now. I won’t let anybody hurt you ever again. I promise.” Feeling overwhelmed by her emotions, Sheba stood up. “You go on and get some rest, and I’ll see you in the morning.”

  “Good night, Sheba, and thank you,” Demi said as Sheba left the room.

  After looking in on her grandmother, Sheba went downstairs to the kitchen and got the last bottle of beer from the cooler. She went out on the back porch, sat down, and popped the top. Sheba looked out at the night sky, thinking about what she was going to do. Her grandmother was deep in debt, she needed treatment, and Demi needed to be in rehab. Knowing that all that was gonna cost money, more money than she had, she made a decision to sell the cocaine she had in order to save her family.

  She drained the bottle and went into the house and upstairs to her room. Sheba got down on her knees and pulled the briefcase from under her bed. She put the case on the bed, sat down, and opened it. Sheba took one kilo out and closed the case.

  Chapter 9

  In the morning when Sheba woke up, she felt refreshed. For the first time since she’d taken that briefcase, she slept well. From almost the moment that Sheba arrived, she had watched her family come apart at the seams and felt like everything that was going on in her family was her fault. There was still a lot going on in her world, but after making the decision to sell a kilo, it felt as if some of the weight had been taken from her shoulders. Sheba decided not to beat herself up any longer over not being there and got out of bed.

  The house was quiet when she came out of her room. Sheba expected her grandmother to be in the kitchen, so after looking in on Demi, who was still asleep, she came downstairs and was surprised to see that Chanel was in the kitchen with her grandmother drinking coffee.

  “Morning!” Chanel said brightly and enthusiastically.

  “Good morning, Sheba,” Miss Pearl said, taking a sip of her coffee.

  “Morning, Grandma,” she said and leaned in to hug her. “Morning, Chanel. Ain’t you supposed to be at work?” she asked. She got a cup from the cabinet and went to get coffee.

  “‘Take as long as you need, Chanel,’ means take as long as I need. So after I dropped the kids off at school, I came here.”

  “Do you. You always do.” Sheba sat down at the table. “How are you feeling this morning, Grandma?”

  “Feeling good this morning.”

  “How long have you been up?”

  “Since about six thirty.”

  “Did you take your meds this morning?” Sheba asked.

  “Yes, Sergeant Styles, I took my medication.”

  “She did. I was here when she did,” Chanel said and exchanged glances with her grandmother, who didn’t want to take the new medication that Dr. Kulkarni had prescribed that morning. That was, until Chanel threatened to wake Sheba up. Then Miss Pearl went on and took it.

  “Good. And thank you, Chanel.”

  “No worries.” She winked at Miss Pearl. “Demi’s not up yet, is she?” Chanel asked.

  Sheba shook her head. “She’s still asleep. I looked in on her on the way down here.”

  “How was she last night after I left?” Chanel asked.

  “Did she eat anything?” Miss Pearl wanted to know.

  “She was okay when I left her, and yes, Grandma, she ate.” Sheba laughed and looked at Chanel. “She tore Grandma’s fried chicken up.”

  “Did you bring her a leg?” Miss Pearl asked. “You know she loves legs.”

  “I brought her two, Grandma, because I know how much she loves them.”

  “Good,” Miss Pearl said and started to get up. “What do you girls want for breakfast?”

  Sheba got up. “Sit down, Grandma. I’ll make breakfast,” she said, and Miss Pearl sat down.

  Despite her telling her granddaughters that she was feeling good, the truth was that she was tired and felt a little tightness in her chest. Miss Pearl had been experiencing those symptoms for some time and had attributed them to old age. However, now that she knew it was more than that, it weighed more heavily on her mind, and Miss Pearl knew that she needed to start taking it easy. Her baby Sheba was home now, so everything would be all right.

  Sheba went to the refrigerator. “What y’all want to eat?”

  “Just toast for me,” Miss Pearl said.

  “You sure that’s all you want, Grandma?” Sheba asked and took the bread out of the refrigerator.

  “That’s all, thank you.”

  “What about you, Chanel?”

  She sat up straight. “I want a classic Denver omelet stuffed with smoked ham, melted cheddar cheese, sweet bell peppers, and onions,” Chanel said, using her hands to demonstrate her enthusiasm for the meal. “But I’ll have whatever you cook.”

  “I have all of that stuff in the fridge,” Miss Pearl said and fought the strong urge to get up and take out the ingredients to cook.

  “I’ll cook it if you cut up all that stuff,” Sheba said, and Chanel got up.

  “Deal.”

  “The two of you need to wash your hands first.”

  “Yes, Grandma,” both Sheba and Chanel said and went to wash their hands before returning to the kitchen to cook breakfast. While they were cooking, Demi came downstairs.

  “Morning, everybody,” she said.

  “Morning, Demi,” everybody said almost in unison, and she plopped down in a chair at the table with her grandmother.

  “How are you feeling this morning, Grandma?” Demi asked, reaching for her hand.

  “Feeling good this morning.” She squeezed Demi’s hand. “How are you?”

  “I’m fine, Grandma,” she said, but like her grandmother, the truth was something different. Demi felt anxious and irritable, she was tired, and all she really wanted to do was sleep to avoid thinking. But she was hungry.

  “You want some coffee?” Chanel asked.

  Demi got up. “I’ll get it.”

  “You hungry?” Sheba asked.

  “Starving,” Demi said, and once she poured her coffee, she went to sit down. “What you cooking? You know what? It doesn’t matter. I’ll eat anything.”

  “She’s making classic Denver omelets,” Miss Pearl said.

  “What’s in it?”

  “Ham, cheddar cheese, peppers, and onions,” Chanel said as she cut up some ham for another omelet.

  “It’s so good to have all three of you girls here,” Miss Pearl said.

  “I could call Jody and Floyd so all of your grandchildren would be here,” Sheba said, and Chanel and Demi dropped their heads because any discussion of Jody and Floyd in the house was banned too. Sheba looked at her grandmother, and she looked away. “Then we can have family breakfast like we used to.” She looked at her timid cousins. “Y’all remember waffle and bacon Sundays with Grandma and how much fun we used to have?”

  “I remember you two used to tease me until I cried. That’s what I remember,” Demi said and sipped her coffee.

  “That’s because you were a big crybaby,” Chanel said and sat down at the table. “And it was Sheba and Jody who used to tease you.”

  “Stop it, Chanel,” Sheba said and placed an omelet in front of Demi. “You know you used to tease her too.”

  “That was supposed to be mine,” Chanel complained as Demi grabbed a fork and shoved some of her omelet in her mouth.

  “That’s what you get for lying,” Demi said with her mouth full.

  “Yours is next,” Sheba said.

  “So you can stop whining,” Demi said and kept eating her omelet.

  “That was you, Chanel,” Miss Pearl. “You were a whiner.”

  “She’s still a whiner, Grandma,” Demi said. “‘That was supposed to be mine,’” Demi whined to imitate Chanel.

  “I am not a whiner,” Chanel whined and folded her arms across her chest.

  “And then you get all pouty when you don’t get your way,” Demi said. “This omelet is so good, Sheba.”

  “Thank you, Demi,” Sheba said, and when the omelet was ready, she served Chanel and then made one for herself.

  After breakfast, Miss Pearl directed all three of her granddaughters in the proper cleaning of her kitchen. Although she didn’t comment on it when Sheba brought it up, she did miss her grandsons coming by the house. She missed cooking for them, but Miss Pearl thought that she was doing the right thing. Drugs and drug dealing had cost her family so much, and she hoped her stance would change their behavior.

  However, knowing that grown men were gonna do what they wanted to do, she knew there was nothing she could do to get them to stop. They would come to that conclusion in the same way their father did before he finally let the game go. Maybe she would invite them to dinner on Sunday.

  After the kitchen was clean to her satisfaction, Sheba suggested that Miss Pearl go lay down for a while, and to everyone’s surprise, she didn’t give Sheba any argument and went upstairs.

  “Wow,” Demi said once she heard the bedroom door close. “She really must not be feeling well.”

  “She didn’t even give Sheba no argument,” Chanel commented.

  “That tells us all we need to know. We all need to step up and be here for Grandma,” Sheba said and looked at Demi. “And we need to be there for you, cuz.”

  “Because I am so fucked up,” Demi said.

  “Stop saying shit like that about yourself, Demi. You are a queen. A beautiful African queen,” Sheba said, repeating what their grandfather had tried to instill in each of his granddaughters.

  “I hear you.” Demi remembered those speeches too. “I just don’t feel beautiful. What I feel is fucked up.”

  Chanel felt a chill wash over her as she recalled their grandfather’s powerful words. “But it doesn’t have to be like that,” she said quickly. “Did Sheba talk to you about us getting you into some kind of rehab program?”

  “She did, and I’m good with that, because like I keep saying, your girl is fucked up,” Demi said and saw the disappointed looks on her cousins’ faces. “Okay, okay, I am not fucked up. I’m a beautiful African queen.”

  “All you gotta do now is start believing it,” Sheba said.

  “Baby steps, Sheba. I’m not strong like you and Chanel, and I’ve been fucked up a long time. All I can do is try, because—”

  “Don’t say it,” Sheba said, pointing at Demi.

  “Say what?”

  “That you’ve been fucked up a long time,” Sheba said, and Demi shrugged her shoulders.

  “Well, what can I say? I’ve been fucked up a long time.”

  Sheba and Chanel shook their heads.

  “So what about rehab?”

  Chanel took out her phone. “I searched for drug rehabilitation clinics and found a place called Alliance Recovery Center on East Ponce in Decatur.”

  “Where it’s greater,” Demi said.

  “What’s up with them?” Sheba asked and sat down at the table.

  “The Alliance Recovery Center doesn’t charge an admission fee, only a per-day rate for treatment. They accept cash and credit cards,” Chanel said, reading the site, and then she raised one finger. “But they seem like they’re focused more on opioid addiction.”

  “Opioids really weren’t my thing,” Demi said.

  “You had opioids in your system,” Chanel pointed out.

  “I did?” Demi asked, looking shocked because opioids truly weren’t her thing.

  “Yes, you did.”

  “Damn.” Demi dropped and shook her head. “I really did need to get away from that man. Wasn’t no telling what all else he was giving me.”

  “You had heroin in your system, too, Demi,” Sheba said, looking sternly at her.

  “What else you got, Chanel?” Demi asked, looking away from Sheba.

  Chanel kept scrolling and reading the snippets of information. “Most of these seem like they’re focused on opioids too.”

  “No love for us functional crackheads, huh?” Demi chuckled.

  “Doesn’t seem that way,” Chanel said.

  “Make a list of the ones nearby, and we’ll go check them out. Somebody in this town must still treat cocaine addiction,” Sheba said and stood up. “I’ll be right back.”

  She went into the living room, sat down on the couch, and took out her phone.

  “Who’s this?” Jody questioned because he didn’t recognize the number.

  “It’s Sheba.”

  “This your number?”

  “Yup.”

  “Saved. What’s up, Sheba the queen?”

  “I need to talk to you and Floyd.”

  “This sounds serious.”

  “It is serious. When can the three of us talk?”

  “I’ll get with Floyd, and I’ll call you back.”

  “Cool.”

  “How’s Grandma and Demi?”

  “Demi is fine, but Grandma went back to bed.”

  “Wow, really? That says a lot about how she’s feeling.”

  “Don’t it?” Sheba paused. “Call me, and let me know what’s up,” she said, and she went back into the kitchen with Chanel and Demi.

  Later that evening, Sheba got Chanel to stay at the house with Demi while she went to see Jody and Floyd at Floyd’s apartment. Seeing that being nosy ran in the family, both Chanel and Demi wanted to know what Sheba wanted to talk to them about and wondered why they couldn’t go with her. But because Sheba was Sheba, they both accepted, “It’s a personal matter,” as an answer, and that was that.