I helped Cody make dinner and we ate sitting at the small, two-person island in his kitchen, his mail pushed to the side, the evidence of his nomadic life everywhere I looked: a duffel bag half unpacked by the door, a withered plant on his windowsill, a calendar dated the previous year hanging on the wall.
After dinner I helped him clean up and we went into his living room. He lit a fire in the fireplace and I sat on his couch, pulling my legs beneath me.
Cody sat across from me, swirling his second glass of wine. “Can I ask you if there’s a reason you moved out of your uncle’s house?”
I gazed into the fire. “It was just time for me to be independent,” I lied. “Braxton had ideas for my life I didn’t share.” I looked down, picking at my fingernails. I felt Cody’s assessing gaze on me, but didn’t look up. What reason would there have been to tell Cody about Braxton’s kiss? It would have only made him feel bad for placing me with him in the first place. That was what I told myself anyway. Another small part shook with fear over the possibility he’d look at me the way Claire had. With disbelief and disgust. I had survived it from her, but not from Cody, this man who I looked upon as a hero.
When I glanced up at Cody, he was swirling the glass of wine thoughtfully, his eyes held to the fire as mine had been moments before. He met my gaze. “What happened to Zakai?”
I let out a stuttered breath. This topic was harder, and one I couldn’t manage to lie about. I was still so deeply raw. “I don’t know exactly,” I whispered, an edge of pain clear in my voice. “He . . . he didn’t like school, or where he lived. We . . . began drifting apart.” I shook my head. “He began modeling. I see him in ads sometimes. He’s doing well, I suppose.” I looked down, willing myself not to tear up. Not now. I didn’t want to appear a child in front of this man I respected.
Cody stood, moving closer to where I sat. “I’m so sorry, Karys.”
“It still hurts. All the time.”
Cody set his wine down, taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly. He set his elbows on his knees and laced his hands. They were so much larger than mine. Strong and tanned, golden compared to my olive tone. Hands that grasped those trapped in darkness and pulled them into the light. “Did Zakai tell you I found his mother?”
My breath stalled. “What? When?”
He sat back and scratched the back of his neck. “Shortly after you arrived here, when he was still at the group home.”
Confusion gripped me, confusion and hurt. “No,” I admitted. “He never said a word.”
Cody’s brow furrowed and he looked hesitant. But then his eyes moved to something on the wall behind me and he seemed to come to a decision. He took a deep breath. “His father had died when Zakai was a baby. His mother was very poor and unable to feed him. She sold him to ‘work’ in fields. It’s not uncommon for families in poverty-stricken areas who can barely care for their children to make these deals. They’re lied to. They think they’re sending their child somewhere better. I told him that too. Often, they simply have no choice and traffickers take advantage of their desperation.”
My heart hurt. I had no way of knowing if Zakai had any memories of his mother but he knew he’d been given away when we’d spent time at the café together. The first time, when he promised to go back to school. He hadn’t told me. I’d felt our growing separation even then, but I’d had no idea of the extent, much less the reason why.
“How old was he?” I asked softly. “When he was given up?”
“He was six.” He paused. “He has few memories of his mother, but he does remember the mistreatment—the beatings—by the men he went to work for. He eventually escaped. He’d been living on the streets for quite some time when Haziq found him, starving and alone. Haziq was going to sell him again, but instead, decided to use him as a means of luring others. He was very young, innocent-looking, naturally trustworthy. Haziq used both manipulation and Zakai’s presence to convince those Haziq deemed useful to capitulate easily and accompany him to Sundara where they . . . well, you know what happened there.”
My shoulders sunk and I looked away. “Zakai remembers this?”
Cody nodded. “Yes.” He paused. “Zakai is reticent, but I got the sense he felt ashamed about it.”
Of course he did. How could he not? Something suddenly occurred to me, my gut tightening. “Did he . . . lure me?”