Page 218 of Invisible Bars
I froze mid-step, my stomach dropping, when I noticedTyla,leaning near the curb—alone and looking like the city had chewed her up and spit her out twice. Her hair was brittle and wild, like it hadn’t been washed in days, lips cracked and face sunken. She wore an oversized shirt that swallowed her once-toned frame, and shoes that didn’t belong on anyone's feet, let alone a woman who used to strut Paris runways.
No way… that can’t be her.
But her approaching me confirmed it.
“Oh my God. Naji?”
Imanio felt my body stiffened. He didn’t say a word, but he knew something shifted. His hand dropped, reaching for the strap beneath his shirt—just in case.
I touched his wrist in reassurance. “I g-got this,” I muttered.
He paused. “You sure?”
I nodded slowly. “Yeah. Ineedto h-handle it.”
Tyla took a few clumsy steps forward. Her voice was shaky, like she’d forgotten how to be confident.
“You look… wow. You look amazing.”
I eyed her in disdain. “Too bad I can’t say the same,” I shot back harshly. My neck jerked once. “Crackhead fashion! Suck a pinecone! Pinecone!”
Tyla tried to smile through the burn. “Wow. I guess I deserved that. But you still got that, huh? The, um… Tourette’s.”
Wrong move.
I felt Imanio shift beside me, ready to react, but I held up a hand to stop him.
I stepped toward Tyla slowly, glowering at her with malice.
“And you’re still a hateful b-bitch?”
“I didn’t mean it in a disrespectful way,” she backpedaled, her tone suddenly cowardly.
“Pill thief!” I shouted out of anger.
Her smile faltered instantly. “I didn’t?—”
“You stole my meds d-during Fashion Week! Ad-dmit it!”
Tyla’s gaze dropped to the floor, shame seeping into her silence before she finally exhaled.
“You’re right. I did. I was jealous—immature. You were getting all the attention, and I… I just wanted the spotlight back, even if it meant taking you down.” Her voice wavered, thin as paper. “I was going through a lot back then…”
I laughed bitterly, no humor in it. “So was I… so werea lotof us. But you—” My head jerked and hand fluttered up before I spit another tic. “Sabotaging bitch!—pigeon feet!—sorry not sorry!—you chose cruelty!”
“Naji, I’m not that person anymore.”
I took Tyla in—disheveled, hollow, trying to claw her way into some version of peace Iknewshe didn’t deserve from me.
I looked her dead in the eye. “Good. Because t-that person? The one you were? I hated her.”
“I just thought maybe we could?—”
“You t-thought what? That we’d play catch-up like old friends? That I’d let you sit at my table after you tried to p-poison my plate? No. You d-d-on’t get access to me. Not now… not ever.”
She flinched.
I felt Imanio’s hand at my waist again, steady. He didn’t say a word, but I could feel the pride humming in his body—notbecause I was angry, but because I stood in it… owned it.
