“I hope I’m not intruding,” he said.
“No, it’s okay.” I stood up from the bench. Nikia looked up from the swings, recognized him, and waved shyly. He waved back.
“I wanted to make sure you were both all right,” he said, “and to let you know that DeAndre won’t be a problem anymore.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means his lawyer advised him to take a plea deal. He’ll be in prison for a long time.”
Relief washed over me so powerfully I almost collapsed. My knees actually buckled, and Young Chul reached out to steady me. His hand on my arm was gentle but firm.
“Thank you. I don’t know how I’ll ever—”
“You’ll have dinner with me.”
I blinked. “What?”
“You and Nikia. Dinner. Somewhere she’d enjoy. Let me do that much.”
It wasn’t a demand. It was an offer. A genuine one. I looked at Nikia, who was watching us curiously, still swinging slowly back and forth.
“Okay,” I said. “Okay.”
He smiled then. A real smile. And for the first time since everything happened, I felt like maybe things could actually be okay.
“Your mom told me you like art. Is that true?” >> “Yes.” >> “Then I know the perfect place for dinner. They have crayons.” >>
Before he left, he crouched down in front of Nikia again. She stopped swinging and came over, a little hesitant but curious.
“Your mom told me you like art,” he said. “Is that true?”
Nikia nodded.
