He was tall, broad across the shoulders, his frame solid and strong. His dark skin caught the last light of the evening, and a neatly trimmed beard sharpened the lines of his jaw.
He looked about my age, maybe in his mid-thirties. "Evenin'," he said in a deep voice.
Before I could answer, I heard quick feet from behind.
Nia rushed forward, nearly colliding with me at the door, like she needed to get past me. Her face was brighter now, though I couldn't tell if it was joy or nerves making her eyes so wide.
She stopped short of him, panting hard.
"Taye," she called out.
He looked at her as if I wasn't standing between them and smiled with an awkward tilt, like a boy instead of a man. "Nia."
I stepped aside to make room for them, though she did not move any closer to him.
Her presence drew another, as her mother appeared, her dress rustling against the floor. She looked from her daughter to the man at the door, and her eyes were hard to read.
She moved closer and set her hand on Nia's shoulder. It seemed at first like a light touch, but it held there, firm enough to feel like a grip. "And who are you?" she asked. Under her hand, I saw Nia's back go rigid.
Taye shifted slightly, brushing his hands at the sides of his trousers. "Name's Taye. I know Nia. We've talked."
The mother's eyes stayed on him, not unkind but not welcoming either. "Talked about what?"
"School," he said simply.
His eyes flicked toward Nia for a moment, then back to her mother. "Nothing else."
The silence that followed was so loud it was almost a sound itself. I could hear the faint ticking of the clock far behind me.
Nia spoke after a few moments. "He just came to see me, Mama. That is all."
The mother's eyes settled on her daughter, then looked at me as if I should say something. I kept my face still, unsure what to say or how to react.
"You will not come in?" she said finally, stepping aside.
He moved a little closer, one step into the room, but Nia slid in between them, her hand lifting partway toward him as if to hold him back or keep him from stepping too far inside. "Mama, he does not need to come in. He only came to greet."
Her mother's gaze moved from one to the other, her mouth drawn into a firm line, but she kept silent. Taye's eyes stayed on Nia a little while before he finally spoke. "Take care of yourself. I'll see you again."
Nia gave a small nod, not moving from her spot.
I held the door, watching him walk off, his steps even and unhurried until the darkness folded him out of sight. Then I pulled the door shut, cutting off the street and the faint trace of his visit. The room fell quiet at once, charged like a wire still carrying current.
"You are not going to prom night," the mother said. Her voice was level and casual, but the finality in it left no space to argue.
Nia spun toward her. "You did not even let me talk."
"I already know what you want to say."
Nia's lips trembled with held words. "No, you do not. You are only saying that because of him. Because it was Taye who asked me."
The mother's eyes did not move from her daughter's face. "That would not be possible even if I allowed prom."
Nia's shoulders stiffened. "Mama, it is just one night. A dance. I am not a child." She glanced at me, her eyes searching for some support. "Eleenor did not see anything wrong when I told her."
Both of them turned their eyes to me, but I hesitated. "I think prom could be a good experience," I said at last. "Prom is a memory. A little fun wouldn't hurt."
As long as it didn't change things too much.
The mother's head tilted slightly. "Fun? You think fun is worth what people will take from her?"
I faltered, caught off guard, but she went on.
Her voice hardened, every word dropping heavy, one after the other, like stones laid in place. "You do not understand this place.
The people out there are not kind. They are not safe. They will take. They will use her until there is nothing left. I am the only one who can protect her." Her voice dipped slightly on the last word.
Nia's face burned with frustration. "You cannot keep me locked in forever. I cannot breathe like this." The words landed between us, not settling on either side. She clenched her hands at her sides, her chest rising and falling in quick bursts.
Her mother's eyes stopped her short, sharp and unyielding. Nia spun away before another word could escape, her steps striking hard against the floor as she hurried down the narrow hall. A moment later, her door shut with a heavy slam.
The mother stayed frozen in place for a moment, then lowered herself into her chair. She picked up her spoon and dipped it back into the stew as if nothing had happened.
The scent of pepper and oil rose once more, heavy in the small room and clinging to the air.
"Sit," she said. Her voice remained low, without force, yet it left no room to resist.
She did not lift her eyes as she spoke.
"I'm full already," I answered softly.
She lifted her eyes and held me there, fixed in her gaze. Without thinking, I sank into the chair across from her. The wood groaned under my weight.
Then she began moving the spoon through the stew in slow, careful circles, each turn deliberate, as if counting the passing moments. "I am not cruel. You must know that."
"What I do for her is what any mother would do." Her spoon clinked softly against the bowl.
"A mother feels when danger is near. A mother knows her child."
She leaned closer, her eyes darker in the light of the kerosene lamp. "Nia is not like others. She is special. From the day she was born, I have known it."
"She carries something fragile inside her. I cannot let the world break it. If I must be hard, it is because love is hard." Her words sank in slowly, wrapping around me and tightening their hold.
"You are her friend, Eleenor. She listens to you. She follows you. That means you must help me keep an eye on her."
I swallowed hard and leaned a bit closer. Her words were softly spoken but layered. "You want me to do what?"
"She listens to you more than she should. I need you to make sure she does not wander into harm. Guide her if I am not near. You will do this, yes?"
I parted my lips, but no sound came out. Her eyes held me in place, unrelenting, like a hand pressing at the back of my neck. I did not know what to say.
Doing that would mean betraying the trust Nia placed in me, and even if it didn't, I had a job to protect, a life I did not want to risk just to spy on a child.
I wanted to refuse, but as I stared into the cold, unblinking eyes before me, I realized that saying yes would cost less time and less energy than trying to say no.
"Yes," I replied. It felt easier than arguing. Easier than letting things slip out of place.
Her expression eased just a little, then she went back to her food, chewing quietly as if the decision had already been made. I sat with my hands folded on the table, the pressure in my chest refusing to calm.
The silence started getting to me, so I stood up to leave, but her hand closed around my arm, firm enough that I felt the shape of her fingers long after. Her fingers were thin but strong. She did not say anything more, but I could feel what she meant.
I told myself I was helping.
—"The first shall not devour alone; the second shall follow, yet neither shall be free."