#Epilogue, Part 2: Sonnet 116

Shitty, shit, shit!

Kadeem quietly gauges my reaction.

“Kadeem,” I begin, not wanting to hurt him, but panicky all the same, “Could we just - pretend you didn’t give me this?” It comes out in the vein of an anxious Western villain. Walk away slowly, and no one gets hurt.

“Suit yourself.” He goes back to working on his computer. “But you might like what you see in there,” he adds.

I run my fingers over the soft, velvety surface of the box. My voice comes out high-pitched as I try to change the subject. “Are you getting nervous about your surgery?”

“No.”

“Really?”

“It doesn’t ruffle my feathers,” Kadeem mumbles, half-distracted. He pauses. “Erbao’s surgery on the other hand…”

My stomach knots at the thought of it. “Me too. But for both of you.”

“It’ll all be worth it,” he says, looking up to smile.

Seeing Erbao healthy will be worth it. Thank the Goddess Kadeem was a match for his kidney transplant.

“Something did ruffle your feathers once,” I say, “Maybe something medical.”

“Impossible