How to separate people without turning everything into a fight. Nia stared. You helped write that? Parts of it. You're saying that like you helped paint a hallway.
Naomi shrugged. It was work. No. It was important work. To somebody. To a lot of people.
Naomi looked away. Nia knew that look too. The one that appeared whenever praise came too close. You really don't know what people see when they look at you, do you? Nia asked.
Naomi gave a tired laugh. Oh, I know exactly what people see. Her eyes moved toward the rain dark window. They see the jacket. Nia said nothing.
The shoes. Still nothing. The bus pass. Naomi's mouth tightened. They see the woman who lost an apartment.
The woman taking overtime. The woman stretching rent. They see what came after and decide that's the whole story. Nia felt something ache in her chest. That's why you carry the coin.
Naomi nodded. Some days. To remember. To refuse forgetting. Nia picked up the coin again.
What happened to Reeves? Naomi went very still. Nia knew the answer in broad pieces. Training accident. 46 years old.
Adult mentor. Funeral. Silence afterward. But Naomi had never filled in much more. He died doing what he loved.
Naomi said. That doesn't make it easier. No. Were you there? No. Naomi swallowed. I was three states away.
The word seemed heavier than they should have been. He called me two nights before. Nia waited. I was working. I didn't answer.
Naomi looked at the coffee. He left a message. Nia's voice softened. What did he say? That I worried too much.
Nia smiled faintly. That sounds right. He said strength gets ugly when it starts needing witnesses. Naomi rubbed her thumb along the edge of the coin. I kept the voicemail for years.
Nia reached across the table. Naomi let her take her hand. They stayed like that until the rain slowed. Then Naomi stood. We need to work.
Nia looked at the suspension paperwork. On what? The appeal. For the next two hours they built it carefully. Dates, screenshots, names, the viral clip.
A still image showing the reflected fixed camera in the athletic center. Nia wrote. Naomi organized. Neither exaggerated. Neither guessed.
When they finished, the folder looked less emotional than Nia felt. That was the point. Near nine, Naomi checked the time. I have to go downstairs. Nia frowned.
Why? Walter. What about him? Housing paperwork? No, you're exhausted.
He has an appointment tomorrow. And? And he doesn't understand half the forms. Nia stared at her. You're really going down there now?
Naomi pulled on the old black jacket. Yes. Yes. Walter was waiting in the building lobby with a folder clutched in both hands. I'm sorry.
He said as soon as he saw Naomi. I know you're busy. You're fine. I can pay you for your time. No. Naomi?
No. Walter tried to push folded bills toward her. Naomi closed his hand around them. Keep it. You already bought breakfast. You were hungry.