That night, after Malachi was fed and tucked into a crib larger than any bed Keisha had ever seen, Grayson came to her room. She sat curled in a robe, hair still damp from a real bath.
“I contacted the shelter you stayed at,” he said gently. “They told me you ran away a few months ago.”
Keisha dropped her gaze. “They wanted to separate us. I couldn’t let that happen.”
Grayson sat beside her. “Earlier today, you said you’d pay me back when you’re grown. Do you still mean it?”
She nodded firmly. “I do.”
His expression softened. “Good. Because I’m going to hold you to it.”
Her eyes widened. “Really?”
“Not in money,” he said. “In something more valuable.”
“What’s that?”
“I want you to grow up. Go to school. Study hard. Use that brilliant mind I saw today—when you stood up for your brother and reasoned with me like a future CEO.”
“You think I’m smart?” she whispered.
“I know it,” Grayson said.
