Lily entered the living room, holding a phone in one hand and a pair of sunglasses in the other. But the moment she saw her mother leaning in toward Kemet, her whole body stiffened.
She caught just enough of the last words.
"—you can trust me. I just need the real truth."
Kemet sat frozen, shoulders tense. Lily's eyes flashed.
"Mom," she said sharply, "what's going on?"
Catherine straightened up quickly, her tone shifting into something defensive. "I was just... having a conversation with him."
Lily dropped the sunglasses on the table and crossed her arms. "A conversation? Really? Is that what we're calling interrogations now?"
"I had to be sure, Lily," Catherine said, lifting her chin. "I had to know who I invited into my house."
Lily laughed bitterly. "Invited? You hit him with your car, Mum. That wasn't an invitation. That was attempted murder—if we're being technical."
Catherine's face tightened. "Yes, he could sue me for that, I know. But he hasn't. He hasn't even mentioned the accident. Why is that?"
Lily took a step forward, voice rising. "Really, Mum? Really? You're the lawyer—figure that part out. He's not some scheming stranger. He's someone who doesn't even understand what suing is. And still, he's done nothing but respect your house, your space, your rules."
She turned to Kemet, her voice softening instantly. "Come on. The guys want to show you around town."
Kemet hesitated, glancing between them, unsure whether to move.
Catherine's voice came again, this time quieter, and strangely... unsure. "Lily... you're upset."
"Of course I'm upset." Lily didn't look back as she grabbed her bag. "You brought a scared, injured boy home because I thought I could trust you to treat him like a human being."
Catherine blinked, the words striking deeper than Lily intended.
"But instead," Lily continued, her voice shaking, "you've treated him like some... con man or fugitive. You say you had to know who he is—but I think you're more afraid of what he reminds you of. Of how little control we actually have when life flips on us."
Kemet stood silently now, his hands loosely at his sides, a flicker of pain in his eyes—not just from Catherine's suspicion, but from the sound of Lily defending him so fiercely.
Catherine didn't reply. She just watched as they walked toward the door. For a moment, something in her chest cracked. She didn't know if it was guilt, fear, or the dawning realization that her daughter was no longer a child—and that Kemet, despite being a mystery, was no longer just a stranger either.
Still, as the door closed behind them, she muttered to herself, "Why is he really here? Who is he? What is he hiding. "
And the question lingered in the quiet house like the echo of a storm not yet passed.
Kemet's city experience was loud one—too loud for him at first. Cars honked without rhythm, people darted in and out of buildings, music spilled out of windows, and colors exploded from every billboard and store sign.
Lily watched him with quiet amusement as they walked through a pedestrian street in downtown. Kemet was a sponge, soaking in everything from the street performers to the glowing screens on every corner.
"Don't stare too long," Lily whispered with a grin, nudging him. "They'll think you're from another planet."
Kemet blinked, pulled back from the glass display of a phone store. "A moving picture in the glass... it listens and talks back?"
Riley, who'd caught up to them with Ji Ah and the rest of the group, laughed. "My guy, you're a whole character. Where've you been hiding?"
"Far away," Kemet replied, grinning.
They ducked into a thrift shop, then walked past a comic book store where Kemet stopped to admire the artwork in the window—images of superheroes in mid-flight. He tilted his head, eyes wide.
"You like comics?" asked Maya, the girl with a blend of white and Black features, wearing overalls and curly hair tied up in a puff.
"I... don't know," he replied truthfully. "But the people in them—they look free."
Maya smiled. "Yeah. That's kind of the point."
Later, they hit a local burger joint where Lily ordered for Kemet. A towering burger with cheese melting over the sides and a pile of golden fries appeared in front of him. He stared, wide-eyed.
"You gonna eat it or marry it?" teased Emma, sipping on her soda.
Kemet took a bite. His eyes widened again. "This... is not real food."
"Good or bad?" Ji Ah asked.
"I don't know. But it tastes like joy."
Everyone laughed again.
It was fun. For a while, it was just that—fun.
Then, they drove out to the lake house where sun hung low over the lake, painting the sky in soft purples and orange gold. The water shimmered gently, disturbed only by the occasional breeze and laughter coming from a group of eight sprawled across old deck chairs on a weathered wooden dock.
Kemet sat between Riley and Ji Ah, his legs stretched out, arms braced behind him as he stared at the open water like it was a painting come to life.
"This place is dope, right?" said Riley, a lanky kid with a swooped haircut and permanent smirk. He elbowed Kemet playfully.
Kemet smiled, his eyes full of wonder. "It's... quiet. And free."
Ji Ah handed him a dark glass bottle. "Here, take a sip. First beer's on us."
Kemet turned the bottle in his hands, inspecting the label, sniffing the rim. "What is it?"
"It's beer, dude," Ji Ah giggled. "Wait, wait—where are you from again?"
"Ravenbrook Plantation," Kemet said without thinking, then blinked. Everyone around him burst out laughing.
"Damn, bro! You got jokes," said Noah, his head thrown back in laughter.
"Ravenbrook plantation! That sounds like some haunted mansion shit,but what are the chances this you left Ravenbrook plantation and came Ravenbrook town,"Riley added.
Kemet chuckled nervously, sipping the beer just to keep up appearances—only to immediately grimace and cough. "That tastes... like someone boiled grass in old shoes."
The entire dock exploded in laughter again. "Man, you're killing me," Riley said. "You're gonna fit in just fine."
For the first time in a long time—maybe ever—Kemet felt like part of something. Not property. Not a secret. Just a group of teenagers sharing jokes by the water, under a wide, endless sky.
Meanwhile back at home ,Catherine sat in her room, the laptop open in front of her as she dialed a number she hadn't used in years.
"Blackstone Investigations," said a clipped voice on the other end.
"I need to speak to Ian. Tell him Catherine Jameson is calling."
Moments later, a familiar voice picked up. "Well, well. Haven't heard from you since the Simmons divorce case. What can I do for you, Counselor?"
Catherine leaned back in her chair, her eyes fixed on the family photo on the mantle. "I need you to look into someone."
She gave a description of Kemet as best as she could, explaining the strange story he'd told them, downplaying the car accident.
"I need to know who he really is. Where he's from. If he's dangerous."
"Full name?" Ian asked.
Catherine sighed. "That's the thing... I don't know it. Yet. But I'll get it for you once he comes back."
"Alright," Ian replied. "But if this is as strange as it sounds, Catherine... be careful. Digging up the past has a way of unearthing more than you bargained for."
She ended the call, her fingers tightening around the edge of the desk. Part of her hated herself for this. But another part—the part trained in law, logic, and cold hard facts—refused to let it go.
Something about Kemet didn't add up.
And she was going to find out what.