After Eight years, Ghenesis Santiago leaves for Atlanta, Ga to try having a relationship with her father and his new family. While having to maintain her senior year in highschool and working with her brother and his Crew under her father's orders...
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“Auntie, please… I can’t do this no more,” I whispered, voice all cracked up as I wiped my face for what had to be the hundredth damn time.
“Kween… we talked about this, sweetie,” she said, real soft, real mama-like. But her voice was still heavy, like she already knew what I was gon’ say next.
“I just… I don’t belong here,” I sniffled. “It’s like the longer I stay, the more I fade out." Zeus—he not the same. He meaner now. Angry. But the type of angry that hides behind silence. We workin’ at the clubhouse non-stop tryna recover what was lost, and I swear, I can’t keep up.
I pulled the sleeves of my hoodie down, hiding the red marks from pressing too hard on my skin earlier. Counting inventory, managing cash flow—it was all cool ‘til I realized I was just another moving part in their machine.
And don’t even get me started on that damn marriage project for school. We hadn’t even started. I couldn’t fake-write an essay about that boy right now if I tried. What would I even say? My fake husband turned out to be my brother psycho hitman boss who got a temper and a traumatized daughter. Yeah… that’s not gonna get me an A.
To dodge his moods, I started riding with Gigi or the girls—or Donovan sometimes. Key word: sometimes. That ended quick once I peeped how pressed he got every time I was with Gigi. Like, bruh... why you pressed? Say what you really feel.
And home? Home ain’t even home.
Charles been pressing me to take testosterone pills, talkin’ ‘bout “God gave me a son, and that’s what I’m gonna raise.” He been trying to make me cut my hair, erase myself—like I’m just some thing to be controlled. I ain’t touched them pills. I ain’t picked up no clippers either.
The only breath of peace I get is when Artemis around. Her and Madeline. Hiding her from Charles been tricky, but it’s worth it. She love oranges, Peppa Pig, and playing with my bangles like they magic. She smile and the world tilt back upright for a second.
But today?
Today, everything felt like it was crashing down again.
“Auntie… I’m begging you, please let me come home.”
“I want to, baby, I really do,” she sighed. “But it’s Charles’ decision right now.”
“What?” I sat up, confused. “I’m 18! He ain’t got that kinda power—”
“You still in school, Kween. Until you graduate, you under custodial agreement. I had to sign you over to him just so you could attend school down there… I’m sorry, sweetheart.”
