Chapter 21
Kai was asleep when the phone rang.
The sound cut through the dark of his apartment, sharp and insistent. His hand found it on the nightstand without opening his eyes, the screen glowing too bright in the dim room.
Aunt Rena.
He answered. "Auntie—"
"Kai." Her voice cracked. "Something happened. Your uncle—"
Kai sat up, his feet hitting the cold floor. "Slow down and tell me what happened?"
Eighteen years ago, Kai's parents had been killed. Gang violence in the 8th District, the kind of thing that happened too often in this city. He was four years old. He didn't remember much from that time. A door being broken open, voices shouting and his aunt's arms around him, pulling him out of a room he never saw again.
Rena and her husband took him in. They weren't rich. They lived in the Third District, which meant they had enough to be safe but not enough to be invisible. His uncle worked construction. His aunt cleaned houses. They had a daughter of their own—Mai, 4 years younger than Kai—and somehow they made room for another child without ever making him feel like he was taking something that wasn't his.
He lived with them until he was sixteen. That was when he started the underground fights. He told his aunt he wanted to be independent, and needed his own space. What he didn't tell her was that he was tired of being protected. Tired of watching his uncle come home with bruises from job sites where the foreman didn't care about safety. Tired of watching his aunt count coins at the kitchen table. Tired of being the boy who had lost his parents and needed to be taken care of.
He moved out, found an apartment in the 7th District, and started making his own money. He called his aunt every Sunday. He never went back.
Elijah had met them once. Kai brought him to the house years ago—Elijah couldn't even remember why anymore. A birthday maybe, or a holiday. He remembered a quiet man with calloused hands who shook his hand like he meant it. A woman who pinched his cheeks and told him he was too skinny. A girl with dark purple hair and her father's eyes who sat in the corner reading a book and didn't look up until Kai said her name.
Mai, she would be eighteen now.
"Kai, are you there?" His aunt's voice pulled him back.
"I'm here." He stood up, moving toward the closet. "Tell me what happened."
"Your uncle was coming home. He called me saying he was ten minutes out. Wanted to know if Mai had eaten dinner." Her voice was shaking now. "I heard gun shots through the phone. The shots, I heard—"
Kai was already pulling clothes from the closet, one hand holding the phone to his ear. "Where were they?"
"He told me he told me Mercer Street and was almost home, Kai. He was five minutes from home."
"Mai was with him?"
"She was in the car. She was screaming. I heard her screaming and then the line went dead." Her breathing was fast, shallow. "I called again three times but no one answered."
Kai's jaw tightened. "Have you called anyone? Police?"
"What would they do? You know what they would do." Her voice rose, then dropped, like she was trying to hold herself together. "Please, Kai. Please come."
"Listen to me." He was at the door now, his shoes on, his jacket zipped. "I'm already coming, bringing someone with me. You should stay where you are, and don't open the door for anyone except me. You understand?"
"Yes."
He hung up and dialed Elijah before he'd taken three steps toward the stairs.
The line rang once. Twice.
"Kai?" Elijah's voice was clear, awake.
"Come get me with the car, Now."
Elijah questioned, "Where are we going?"
"Third District Mercer Street."
"I'll be there in minutes."
Kai took the stairs three at a time, his feet echoing off the concrete walls, his mind running faster than his body. Eighteen years since his parents died. Sixteen years in that house on Mercer Street. Four years since he'd last seen it.
He hit the ground floor and pushed through the front door. The night air hit him, cold and empty. The street was quiet. The city was sleeping.
The black car turned the corner, headlights cutting through the dark, and pulled up in front of him. Elijah was behind the wheel, his face lit by the dashboard lights.
Kai opened the door and slid into the passenger seat. "Go."
Elijah was already moving. The tires gripped the pavement, and the car shot forward.
They drove in silence for the first block. Elijah's hands were steady on the wheel, his eyes on the road. Kai sat beside him, staring through the windshield, his phone tight in his hand.
"How long since you've seen them?" Elijah asked.
"Four years." Kai stared out the window.
Elijah didn't ask why. He pressed the accelerator harder. The roads were empty, the city at this hour a skeleton of itself. They cut through the 8th District without slowing, the streets widening as they left the lower tiers behind.
The Third District was different. Better buildings, Wider roads, Streetlights that worked. The kind of place where people lived when they had enough money to be safe.
Elijah pushed the car faster. The speedometer climbed. The roads were clear, and he let the car eat the distance.
"How far?" Kai asked.
"We should arrive in Ten minutes."
Kai nodded and went quiet. His hands were in his lap, his fingers interlaced, his knuckles white.
The city changed as they drove. The buildings got taller. The streets got cleaner. The air through the cracked window smelled different—cold and clean, nothing like the lower districts.
They passed a sign saying Third District, and after some few minutes they reach the street.
Kai leaned forward. "Slow down."
Elijah eased off the accelerator. The street was residential—houses set back from the road, trees lining the sidewalk, cars parked along the curb. Everything was quiet and still.
"There." Kai pointed.
A car was stopped in the middle of the road. Its headlights were off, its doors closed, its shape dark against the streetlights. It sat there like it had been abandoned.
Kai was out of the car before Elijah had fully stopped, his door slamming behind him, his feet hitting the pavement at a run.
Elijah killed the engine and followed.