Chapter 20
H assan led Sevyn down the quiet hall to his grandmother’s room. He stopped at the door and knocked softly, but to Sevyn, it echoed like thunder. Her heart was already beating so loud it drowned everything else out. The way Hassan gripped her hand—firm, grounding—only made her nerves worse.
Before he could open the door, she gently pulled him back.
"You sure about this?" she asked, voice lower than usual. "Like, really ready?"
He looked at her, smirk tugging at his lips. "You’re only my therapist, right? This part of the job, ain't it?"
She rolled her eyes, but it didn’t stop the nervous flutter in her chest.
"Stop being nervous," he said simply, giving her hand a squeeze before opening the door.
Helen’s voice rang out from inside. “Come in!”
Hassan stepped in first, letting go of Sevyn’s hand as he crossed the room to greet his grandmother properly with a kiss on the forehead. Harper stood from the chair next to Helen’s bed, and both women’s eyes instantly locked on Sevyn as she lingered near the door.
But Helen’s eyes… they softened, then lit up. Her smile widened at the sight of the woman who’d just been holding her grandson’s hand.
Harper, always the observer, broke into a grin. “Hey boo! This is a surprise,” she said, walking over to hug Sevyn while wearing a mischievous smirk. Sevyn hugged her back, rolling her eyes at her tone.
“Madea, this is my therapist,” Hassan said flatly. “Sevyn Love.”
Helen’s eyes widened so big it looked like they might fall out her head. “Therapy?” she repeated, shocked like Hassan just told her he found Jesus.
Sevyn chuckled softly and extended her hand. “It’s a pleasure to final ly meet you. Harper and Hassan speak so highly of you.”
Helen reached out with a shaky, frail hand, slipping it into Sevyn’s warm grasp. The moment made Sevyn’s heart ache. Harper had shown her pictures of Helen in her prime—lively, strong, radiant. Now she looked smaller, more fragile, though still every bit as sharp and beautiful.
“It’s a pleasure meeting you too, baby,” Helen said, eyes twinkling. “You’re stunning. Now I see why my grandson chose you to be his therapist.”
That made both Sevyn and Harper burst out laughing, while Hassan stood there with a blank expression that made it even funnier.
“I didn’t choose her,” Hassan muttered. “I got blindsided. This wasn’t no choice.”
Helen raised an eyebrow, already over his whining. “Well, the shit must’ve worked. You like her enough to bring her to meet me, so clearly something going right.”
Sevyn laughed again, heart finally settling, knowing she was in the room with people who mattered—and somehow, that included her too.
“Not that I’m not happy to see you, Sev,” Harper said, settling back on the couch with a curious look. “But… what are you doing here?”
Before Sevyn could answer, Hassan spoke up, his voice low but steady. “She’s here for a therapy session. With all of us.”
Harper’s brows lifted in confusion while Helen’s head tilted slightly, both women looking at him like he had two heads.
Sevyn stepped in quickly, her tone professional but gentle. “I mentioned to Hassan that one of our sessions should include you both. You two are his family—his foundation. Talking with all of you not only helps me better understand who he is, but it helps him gain clarity too.”
Helen’s eyes lit up with a grin. “Ouuu, girl, what you wanna know? I got a whole lifetime of stories dealing with this fool right here.”
Sevyn let out a soft laugh, glancing over at Hassan, who sat quietly with his jaw tight, unreadable. She could feel how tense he was, how much he hated being emotionally exposed like this—but she also felt his effort. He was trying.
“I’m definitely eager to hear those stories,” Sevyn said, her voice warm. “I’ll admit, I didn’t expect today’s session to be with the full crew.” Her eyes slid toward Hassan, who offered no expression, but she could still feel him.
“But we can keep this informal. Just talk and see where it leads,” she continued, switching into full therapist mode. “I’ll ask questions as we go.”
Harper and Helen nodded, and Sevyn took a seat across from them.
She motioned for Hassan to sit next to Harper—close enough for her to observe him properly, and far enough to help her stay focused.
She needed to stay in therapist mode. No distractions, no flashbacks of the other night, no butterflies.
“Okay, Ms. Helen—” Sevyn began.
“You can call me Madea,” Helen cut in with a warm smile, making Sevyn laugh.
“Madea,” Sevyn corrected with a nod, “Tell me about the first time you found Hassan.”
Helen looked over at her grandson, her eyes soft with memory. “Hassan actually found me, before I found him.”
Her voice was tender, nostalgic. “I was shopping one day, regular afternoon. I’d been in the store for damn near an hour, filled my basket, stood in that long line, and when I finally got to the front—I realized I left my wallet at home.
” She chuckled, followed by a cough, and quickly waved it off.
“Excuse me. Anyway, I asked the cashier if I could leave my basket and run home real quick—I lived just down the street—but this old bitter woman had the nerve to act like I asked her for her last breath.”
Sevyn leaned forward, already smiling.
“She started fussin’—talkin’ bout I was too old to be so forgetful, holdin’ up the line, all that mess. And just as I was about to get my clapback together, I heard this deep voice behind me.”
Helen grinned, eyes flicking to Hassan who stared straight ahead, stoic as ever.
“This boy—maybe sixteen at most—cold, calm, and cut through the noise like a razor. Threatened that lady without raisin’ his voice once. Then pulled out a stack of hundreds like it was nothing. Paid for all my groceries and helped me pack them in my car like he’d known me forever.”
Sevyn’s chest warmed at the image. That sounded exactly like Hassan.
Helen’s smile softened. “It wasn’t until he opened my car door that I really looked at him—those ice-blue eyes, same as my son’s. I recognized him instantly. My grandson.”
The room went still.
“I always knew he existed,” she continued, voice quiet now.
“But I’d never met him. Never knew where he was or what happened to him.
I didn’t tell him I knew that day—I just stayed in touch.
Kept seeing him. Eventually, he moved in with me, and I raised him best I could until he moved out at eighteen. ”
The silence that followed was heavy—but not with tension. It was full of love, layered with grief and healing, unspoken gratitude, and pride .
Sevyn smiled, her heart full. “That’s… beautiful.”
And for the first time in the session, she looked over and saw something unexpected in Hassan’s eyes.
“If you always knew about Hassan,” Sevyn asked gently, “why did you wait until he was sixteen to take him in?”
She watched Hassan shift in his seat at the question, his expression unreadable, but the movement was telling.
His whole life, he’d quietly carried that question like a scar.
Why hadn’t she come sooner? Why did she wait until he already had one foot in the streets, already hardened by the system and life?
A part of him always thought she didn’t want him—until he had money.
Harper looked at her grandmother too, curiosity mixing with surprise.
“When his parents were killed,” Helen began, her voice low and shaky, “they just took him. No one ever called me. No one told me anything. I thought maybe he was with someone from his mother’s side.
I told myself he was safe, maybe even doing well.
But truth is... I had no idea where my grandson was. ”
She paused, tears now brimming in her eyes. “It wasn’t until that day in the store, when I finally saw him… that I knew something wasn’t right. After that, I started digging. Found out he’d been in and out of homes. Living wild. In the streets. I moved heaven and earth to get custody after that.”
Sevyn’s heart ached as she glanced at Hassan. He hadn’t moved. Still stoic, still silent—but in his eyes, she saw something that wasn’t there before.
Relief.
She turned toward him. “Hassan... did you ever think your grandmother didn’t care? That maybe she didn’t want you?”
He looked back at her, finally, and nodded once.
“Yeah,” he said quietly. “That’s why I didn’t trust her. Why I never believed she really loved me. Not at first.”
Helen’s frail hand reached for his, and he didn’t pull away. “I always loved you,” she said through tears. “From the moment your mama told me she was pregnant. I knew you were gonna be the blessing our family needed.”
She sniffled, clutching his hand tighter.
“I’m so sorry if I ever made you feel unwanted.
I never stopped thinking about you, San.
I called your mama constantly just to ask how you were.
When your parents passed, I tried everything to find you—but I didn’t have anything to go on.
Not a number, not an address. But the day I saw you in that store?
I knew God was giving me one last chance, and I wasn’t gonna lose you again. ”
Hassan kissed the back of her trembling hand. He didn’t say anyth ing, but he didn’t need to.
Both Sevyn and Harper smiled at the quiet moment between them. It was powerful, healing. A wound Hassan had buried for years now slowly closing.
And Sevyn knew—this was a turning point. One of the pieces of Hassan’s heart that had been broken for so long had finally been put back in place.
He finally knew that he was never truly abandoned. He had always been loved.
"Harper," Sevyn said softly, redirecting the attention toward her. "Yes, bestie?!" Harper answered playfully, making Sevyn laugh. "How did you feel when Hassan moved in?"