But I couldn’t sleep. Tossed and turned until three in the morning.
Then came the knocking.
The knock was loud and repetitive. I sat up in a panic.
Cecily woke up too, heading for the door.
I stopped her fast, put a finger to my lips.
I crept to the door and peeked through the peephole.
Tyrell’s eyes—cold and intense—stared straight back at me.
My whole body went weak. I had to cover my mouth to stop from gasping.
But he didn’t leave.
After two minutes of silence, his voice came through, choking up and crying.
“Sir… Ma’am… I know y’all in there. Please… please help Tyrell.
“My adoptive folks took me home and started beatin’ on me—nonstop. I barely got out alive. If y’all don’t help me, they gon’ drag me back… and I’m not makin’ it out again.
“Sir, Ma’am… I’m beggin’ you! I’m on my knees right now!”
I had no idea how he even found our place.
Cecily, in a panic, was about to open the door. But I quickly blocked her.
Shouting through the door, I said, “Tyrell, we’re already asleep. The director said you’ve been adopted. Legally, we’re not your guardians! If your adoptive parents accuse us of kidnapping, we’d never be able to clear our names!