Nena raised her hand in farewell to her people. They began to fade out one by one. Papa and Ofori lingered last, taking one final look at their cherished daughter and sister, before they disappeared.
Once again, they were physically gone, but this time Nena was not alone, because she held them all in her heart. And she would keep each one of them there until she could finally join them.
Nena was making her way back to her truck, rucksack slung over her shoulder, when her satellite phone began to ring, sounding so weird when all she’d heard for hours were mountain noises. She paused to pull it from her sack and pressed the button to connect the call.
“So, funny thing.” Elin’s voice crackled through the line.
“What’s that?” Nena asked, wondering what couldn’t wait until her scheduled check-in once she’d made it back to the hotel.
“Turns out you’re going to be an auntie.”
Nena didn’t answer. Both her steps and her voice were frozen.
Elin continued, “I’m okay with it, to be quite frank. I hope you’ll be too.”
Nena knew without question she was okay with it. She only wished she was there to hug her sister and shower her with all the love she now knew she was capable of . . . for her niece or nephew too.
“I was thinking to name the baby with your family’s name. Asym. I’m still playing around with it all, and it’s mad early, but I wanted your okay.”
Nena had to stop and sit to catch her breath. What Elin was doing for her and her family had no words.
“Did the call drop? Damn sat phone. Hello?”
“I’m here. Still here.”
“Are you good with it, sis?”
Nena could hear the worry in Elin’s voice.
“Yeah,” she managed to get out. “Of course I am.”
The baby would be of her blood, a fusion of the lineage of Michael Asym and Noble Knight, the men who’d given Nena life two times over. Nena couldn’t see through the thick, hot tears blurring her vision. She was unbelievably happy, despite the hint of sadness at the knowledge that she’d taken the life of this child’s father, even if in self-defense. Her duty to the baby wouldn’t just be as an aunt but as standin for the parent Ofori would have been. The responsibility she gave herself would be her cross to bear and her recompense. And she’d make sure to root out whoever had helped Paul infiltrate the Tribe, whoever had sought to destroy them, so that she could ensure this baby’s legacy.
When N’nkakuwe had burned, her future had been unimaginable, bleak. But she’d fought for her life and survived. She’d suffered so much loss and gained more than she’d ever expected in Georgia and Cort—her breath caught. She couldn’t think of them at the moment, couldn’t think of them being lost to her, because they weren’t. She’d try to find a way to have what she deserved back in her life again.
Because she was Nena Knight. She had shaped her after. She had made it her now. And most of all, she had learned to cherish every memory she had.
Both the gifts and the curses.
End
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
First, my thanks to God, who stood by me and opened up windows when so many doors had closed.
And now for my Tribe . . .
To my mom, Evelyn Codjoe, for her love and dedication. She is the one person who keeps me grounded whether I want to be or not.
To the two most precious people in my life, my kids, Ethan and Ahmari Hunt, for their support, their laughs, and letting me hug on them almost whenever I want. It is for them that I had to make this writing thing work. I was determined to show them that giving up on your dreams is never an option despite life’s adversities. I wanted to show them it is possible to pick yourself up after a fall （or many）， start again, and do better than before. I hope they see all of that in me, and I know they will accomplish things in their lives that are beyond my imagination.
Thank you to my husband, Vincent McClinton I, who made it easy to dive into my imaginary world and write. Now, about getting a puppy . . .
My sister, Laura Bush （no, not the former first lady, but she’s cool too）， who is always the biggest supporter of my writing and my very first reader. Her insights and thoughtfulness were the calm in my storm. Derrick Angoe, my little brother bug, and Cecilia Angoe, the babe of our family: their sibbie group-chat messages keep me in much-needed stitches and in tears.
My found family, the Moores. Rhonda and Riccardo accepted me and my children into their family when we moved to South Carolina to begin a new life and knew not one single soul.