Page 66 of Invisible Bars
I forced down the lump rising in my throat, hoping it wouldn’t turn into tears.
“She used to look at her hands like they belonged to somebody else… like she was waiting on them to stopembarrassing her. And I told her, ‘Baby, your hands don’t betray you—they speak for you when you too tired to explain yourself.’”
A pause.
“You got that same look right now. So I’m gon’ say to you what I used to say to her.Don’t ever shrink yourself to make other folks comfortable,” she said, her voice like a soft sermon. “God made you loud for a reason; loud in spirit and loud in truth. And baby, even your silence got volume.”
She leaned in a little closer, her palm still resting over mine like a grounding force.
“People gon’ misunderstand you whether you whisper or shout. So you might as well show up full—unapologetic, unmuted, and unashamed. That ticking, that twitching, that trembling voice of yours? That ain’t weakness, baby; that’s your power dressed in a different robe.”
I stared at her for a long second, trying not to cry. “That’s... beautiful. Thank you.”
Ms. Shirley smiled warm, but firm. “You’re welcome, sweetie. Now, if you want extra syrup on theseorganicpancakes, you’d better say it now before I ration it out like it’s gold.”
“N-No. That will be fine.”
And for the first time since this whole mess began, I didn’t feel like I was just surviving… I felt seen.
“I’m glad to see you out of the house,” Imanio said, stepping onto the patio and settling into the chair beside me like he belonged there.
I tensed—just slightly—but enough for him to notice.
“I didn’t mean to startle you,” he added.
“It… It’s okay.” A tic slipped out under my breath. “Sunburned raccoon. Mm-hmm.”
I cleared my throat.
“I’ve b-been in hibernation for the last three days, so after getting advice… or p-p-permissionfrom Ms. Shirley to c-c-come out here, I figured a little sun wouldn’t hurt.”
He sat back, stretching his arms across the back of the chair.
“You could’ve called me, Naji.”
I winced subtly. “S-Speaking of calling… my phone doesn’t work and I paid my bill a week ago.”
“I had it turned off,” Imanio informed casually, like he was telling me the sky was blue.
“Y-You didwhat?!” I hissed.
My hands curled tight around the armrests, knuckles aching. My head jerked once, then again.
“Hostage tea party! Chains in silk!”
His expression never shifted.
“Naji, I’m letting you live the luxury life,” he explained, calmly exhaling like this was just business. “But let’s not forget what this is. This is still a…kidnapping;some part of it has to stick.”
“You think t-that’s just something you s-sprinkle in between breakfast and patio time?!” I shouted, voice rising before I could stop it. “Like—‘Here’s your p-peppermint tea, sweetheart—oh, and by the way, you’re still k-k-kidnapped’?1 Is that supposed to feel normal to me?! Kidnap and croissants—sicko brunch special!”
My voice cracked at the end, but I didn’t care. I was too tired to filter and too tense to pretend I was okay with any of that.
Imanio didn’t speak right away. He just stared, arms crossed—dressed in that silence he always wore when he was trying not to explode or say the wrong thing.
“See… that one word,” he finally spoke again, jaw tight. “Kidnapped.Naji, the shit that comes out of your mouth is too unpredictable for me to just give you back to the streets. There’s no telling what you might say around the wrong person.”
My hands clenched at my sides.
