Chapter 16
Tammy
New Mercy looked softer in daylight.
The blue doors were still chipped. The sign still had missing letters. The choir room still smelled like dust and old wood.
But sunlight came through the windows and touched the white cloth covering Savannah's box.
Rico had placed a red scarf over the top.
Not the original one. That stayed with her.
This one came from Evelyn's boxes.
It felt right.
The pastor remembered Evelyn. He did not ask too many questions. That made me trust him.
Kira sat beside me in the front pew with both hands wrapped around mine. Damian sat on my other side, close enough for me to feel him without feeling crowded. Tone sat behind us and kept his head bowed for once.
The pastor talked about stolen years, lost rest, and a God who knew names even when people tried to erase them.
Then he asked if anyone wanted to speak.
I stood.
My legs shook once.
Then stopped.
"My name is Tammy Brooks," I said. "I was born Savannah Elaine Vega, but I was raised by Evelyn Brooks, who loved me like I came from her own body."
The church went quiet.
I touched the cloth covering my mother.
"I did not know Savannah the way a daughter should know her mother. I knew a picture. A warning. A missing piece. But I heard her voice, and she told me to live. She told me not to turn my whole life into her grave. So I won't."
I looked at Rico.
"But I will honor her. I will say her name. I will make sure the truth she died protecting does not stay buried under rich men's walls."
My voice cracked.
I let it.
"She was not proof. Not leverage. Not a problem someone solved. She was a woman. A sister. A mother. And she was loved."
When I sat down, Damian pulled me close and Kira squeezed my hand so hard it hurt.
Then Rico stood.
He walked to the front like every step cost him something.
He placed his hand on the cloth.
"Vannah."
That was all he got out at first.
The sound broke something in the room.
"I'm sorry I went home," he said. "I'm sorry I spent years thinking I failed you and never knew where to put that. I know you said I wasn't your soldier. But I was your brother."
His voice broke.
He kept going anyway.
"Your daughter found you. She brought you back into the light. I will learn her. I will show up for her. I will be family if she lets me."
I nodded through tears.
He looked at Savannah's box again.
"I love you, big sister."
No one in that church breathed normally after that.
? ? ?
Savannah was buried behind New Mercy before sunset.
Her marker would come later.
Savannah Vega
Beloved Mother. Beloved Sister.
Her song survived.
Under it, smaller:
Returned home by her daughter, Tammy Brooks.
After the dirt fell, I stayed by the grave.
Rico stayed too.
Damian gave us room, but not distance.
"I don't know how to do this," Rico said.
"Do what?"
"Be what I should have been."
I looked at the fresh dirt.
"You can't go back and be that."
"I know."
"But you can be here now."
He nodded.
"I can learn."
That sounded honest.
I could live with honest.
Alana called while we were still at the cemetery. Bishop was secured. The evidence transfer had begun. She could not promise speed, safety, or justice in a straight line.
But she promised it would not disappear quietly.
Then she asked if I wanted both of my names protected.
I looked at Savannah's grave.
"No," I said. "Protect the victims who did not choose this. But me? No. I will stand on mine."
"Both names?" Alana asked.
"Both. Tammy Brooks and Savannah Elaine Vega."
Damian's hand found mine.
He did not argue.
Later, at his house, we sat on the couch with the television off and the city quiet beyond the glass.
"I keep hearing the dirt hit the box," I said.
Damian turned toward me. "Come here."
I went because I was tired of being strong in rooms where everyone needed me to survive beautifully.
He pulled me against him and placed my hand over his heart.
"Listen to this instead."
His heartbeat was steady beneath my palm. Not a promise. Not a guarantee. Just proof.
For that night, proof was enough.
He kissed my forehead.
Then my mouth.
Slow.
Grateful.
Careful with the grief still sitting between us.
We were tired. Alive. Hurt. Still choosing each other.
For that night, that was enough.