Twenty-Two
Eagle’s mom was not what I expected. She had tightly curled hair that framed her oval-shaped head like she was a queen. Her wide eyes narrowed on me, taking me in and holding me in place, like she was a warrior assessing a new foe.
For the first time in a long time, I was the first to look away. Judge Oluyemi Obademi was an intimidating woman. She turned her gaze back on the papers that her son had handed her after introductions.
“I’m sorry,” said Judge Obademi, slapping the notice down on the large oak desk of her home office. “I can’t help you.”
My chest deflated and my shoulders caved in. I hated to admit that I had gotten my hopes up.
“You don’t see any loophole or technicality that she can use?” asked Eagle.
His mother picked up the paper again, but even as she reache
