Chapter 2 - The Cousin Nobody Mentioned
Zaria had never heard the name Imani.
She knew all her cousins.
At least she thought she did.
There was Marcus in Atlanta.
Talia in Philadelphia.
Twins Jordan and Joshua in Maryland.
Her mother remembered birthdays, graduations, divorces, and every cousin who had borrowed money from somebody and failed to return it.
There had never been an Imani.
And Amara had never mentioned a sister.
Louise's shoes appeared at the top of the basement stairs.
“Zaria?”
Imani pulled Zaria behind a tall shelving unit packed with dusty boxes.
“Don't move.”
Zaria's breathing sounded too loud.
“She'll find us.”
“Not if she thinks you came back toward the stairs.”
“Why are you hiding?”
Imani stared at her.
“Because she locked me down here yesterday.”
Zaria almost spoke.
Imani covered her mouth with one hand.
Footsteps descended.
Slow.
Controlled.
Louise reached the bottom.
“Zaria, this isn't funny.”
Neither girl moved.
Louise flicked another switch.
A second bulb illuminated part of the basement.
Old furniture.
Wine racks.
A broken grandfather clock.
Stacks of legal boxes.
Zaria noticed something else.
A mattress.
Blanket.
Water bottles.
Food wrappers.
Someone had been living down there.
Imani.
Louise moved between the shelves.
“I know you're here.”
Zaria could see her grandmother through a narrow gap.
Louise no longer looked angry.
She looked frightened.
That was somehow worse.
“Come out.”
Imani whispered into Zaria's ear.
“She doesn't know about this space.”
Behind the shelves was a narrow opening where an old coal storage room had once connected to the furnace.
The girls squeezed through.
Zaria's shoulder brushed rough brick.
Darkness surrounded them again.
Louise walked past.
“Zaria.”
Her voice softened.
“You're going to get hurt.”
Zaria remembered being shoved through the doorway.
She almost laughed at the hypocrisy.
Then Louise said something that silenced both girls.
“Imani.”
Zaria looked at her.
Imani closed her eyes.
Louise knew.
“Imani, if you're hiding her, you're making things much worse.”
Imani whispered, “She told me nobody knew I was here.”
“What happened?”
Imani shook her head.
“Later.”
Louise walked farther across the basement.
“Zaria, your mother will be home soon.”
That caught Zaria.
“Mom?”
Imani grabbed her sleeve before she could answer.
“Don't.”
Louise continued.
“You don't want her thinking you've been disobedient.”
Zaria's fear changed.
She knew that trick.
Louise used disappointment like other people used shouting.
Maybe Mom will be disappointed.
Maybe Mom won't trust you.
Maybe you misunderstood.
Zaria pressed her lips together.
After several minutes, Louise climbed the stairs again.
The door closed.
Click.
Locked.
Neither girl moved until they heard her footsteps disappear down the hallway.
Imani released a long breath.
Zaria immediately turned on her.
“Why did you say your mom is my mom's sister?”
“Because she is.”
“My mom doesn't have a sister.”
“Yes, she does.”
“No.”
“Her name was Simone.”
The name did something strange inside Zaria's memory.
She had heard it once.
Maybe twice.
Years earlier.
Her mother had been looking through an old photo album.
Zaria remembered asking about a young woman standing beside Amara near a lake.
Her mother had closed the album.
“Who's that?”
“Someone I used to know.”
That was all.
“Simone,” Zaria whispered.
Imani nodded.
“My mom.”
“Where is she?”
Imani's face changed.
“She died eleven days ago.”
Zaria went quiet.
“I'm sorry.”
Imani looked away.
“She was sick for a long time.”
“Why are you here?”
“My mom's friend Dana brought me.”
“To Grandma?”
“She said Grandma Louise was family.”
“Why didn't she bring you to my mom?”
“That's what was supposed to happen.”
Zaria frowned.
Imani explained.
Before Simone died, she left instructions with Dana.
There was an envelope addressed to Amara.
A will.
Some papers.
And the address of the mansion.
Dana called the number listed in Simone's notebook.
Louise answered.
Louise said Amara was traveling and couldn't be reached.
She promised to take care of Imani until Amara returned.
“Dana left me here two days ago.”
“And Grandma put you in the basement?”
“Not at first.”
Imani looked toward the shelves.
“She put me in a guest room.”
“What happened?”
“I heard her talking on the phone.”
“To who?”
“A man named Arthur.”
Zaria shrugged.
Imani continued.
“She said they had to fix something before your mom found out I existed.”
Cold moved through Zaria.
“What?”
“I don't know.”
“Then?”
“I went looking for my mom's envelope.”
“Grandma had it?”
“I saw her put it in her office.”
Imani found it.
Inside were photocopies of old legal papers.
Shares in a company.
A trust.
The mansion.
Names she didn't understand.
But one page had been underlined by Simone.
SIMONE CARTER — 40%.
AMARA CARTER — 40%.
LOUISE CARTER — 20%.
Zaria blinked.
“Forty percent of what?”
“Some company.”
“Grandma's company?”
“My mom said it belonged to Grandpa Walter.”
Zaria knew Walter only through photographs.
Louise's late husband.
Amara's father.
Her own grandfather, who had died years before Zaria was born.
Imani reached beneath her sweatshirt.
From a string around her neck, she removed a tiny brass key.
“My mom gave me this before she died.”
“What does it open?”
“She said I'd know when I got here.”
Zaria stared.
“Do you?”
Imani shook her head.
Then she reached into her pocket.
“And she gave me this.”
A folded photograph.
Two young women stood on the mansion steps.
One was unmistakably Amara.
The other looked like Imani.
Same eyes.
Same chin.
Same smile.
On the back, written in blue ink:
Amara and Simone. Sisters before Louise taught them otherwise.
Zaria read the sentence twice.
“What does that mean?”
“I don't know.”
A sound came from upstairs.
Both girls froze.
A car door.
Then the distant front entrance opening.
Zaria's face brightened.
“My mom!”
Imani grabbed her.
“Wait.”
“Why?”
“What if Grandma tells her I'm dangerous?”
Zaria stared.
“Are you?”
Imani almost laughed.
“No.”
“Then I'm telling Mom.”
Upstairs, Amara called into the mansion.
“Zaria?”
Louise answered immediately.
“She went to bed.”
Zaria's expression changed.
Imani whispered, “See?”
Zaria moved toward the stairs.
This time Imani didn't stop her.
They reached the basement door.
Zaria pounded.
“Mom!”
Upstairs, silence.
Then Amara's voice.
“Zaria?”
Louise said quickly, “You heard the television.”
Zaria hit the door again.
“MOM!”
Footsteps rushed down the hallway.
Amara grabbed the basement handle.
Locked.
She turned toward Louise.
“Why is my daughter locked in the basement?”
Louise stared at her.
For three seconds, she had no answer.
Then the old control returned.
“Because she wouldn't stop trying to go down there.”
Amara's face hardened.
“That doesn't answer my question.”
“Amara—”
“Open the door.”
“Your daughter has been behaving hysterically.”
“Open the damn door.”
Louise slowly reached into her pocket.
Downstairs, Imani stepped backward.
Zaria looked at her.
“Come with me.”
Imani shook her head.
“Why?”
“Because your grandma said your mom hates mine.”
Zaria stared at her.
The key turned above them.
“I don't think my mom even knows you're alive.”
The door opened.
Light spilled down the staircase.
Amara appeared.
Zaria ran upward.
“Mom!”
Amara dropped to her knees and grabbed her.
“What happened?”
“Grandma pushed me down here.”
Louise snapped, “I did not push—”
“Yes, you did!”
Amara stood.
Her face transformed.
But Zaria pulled her sleeve.
“Mom.”
“What?”
“There's somebody else.”
Louise's body went still.
Amara looked down the dark stairs.
Zaria pointed.
“A girl.”
Louise spoke too quickly.
“Zaria was frightened. She imagined—”
“No.”
Zaria pulled the photograph from her pocket.
Imani had slipped it into her hand.
She gave it to Amara.
Amara looked down.
The color drained from her face.
Her fingers began shaking.
“Where did you get this?”
“From Imani.”
Amara whispered the name.
“Who?”
Zaria looked toward the basement.
“She says Simone was her mother.”
The photograph slipped from Amara's hand.
May you like
Louise closed her eyes.
And for the first time in fourteen years, Amara said her sister's name out loud.
