"I just fix things," he said.
Tyler let out a short laugh. "Yeah," he said, his voice dropping just enough to sting. "Trash fixes trash."
The boys laughed again, louder this time. Malik felt something tighten in his chest, but his face stayed still. He had heard worse. He stepped around Tyler without another word and kept walking.
Behind him, the laughter faded, replaced by the distant hum of cicadas and the low rumble of an old bus somewhere down the road. It didn't follow him home, but it stayed with him.
The Carter trailer sat at the far end of the park, slightly tilted on one side like it had been leaning that way for years. The metal siding was faded, the paint chipped and worn down by time and weather.
Malik pushed open the door. The air inside was thick, warmer than outside, carrying the faint smell of cooking oil and laundry detergent. A small fan sat on the kitchen counter, humming weakly as it pushed around air that didn't feel any cooler.
"Mom?" Malik called.
"In here, baby," a voice answered, soft but strained.
He stepped into the narrow kitchen. Lisa Carter stood at the sink, one hand gripping the counter for balance while the other rinsed a few dishes. Her shoulders rose and fell a little too quickly. And every few seconds, a quiet cough slipped past her lips like something she couldn't quite hold back.
"You should be sitting down," Malik said, setting his pouch on the table.
Lisa smiled without turning around. "And let you come home to a mess?" she said. "I don't think so."
Malik walked over and gently took the dish from her hand, placing it back in the sink. "You worked at the kitchen all morning," he said. "You need to rest."
Lisa looked at him then, really looked at him, and for a moment, the tiredness in her eyes softened. "You always say that," she said.
"Because it's true."
She let out a small laugh that turned into a cough, forcing her to turn away and cover her mouth. It lingered longer this time, her body tensing slightly as she tried to catch her breath.
Malik's smile faded. "You okay?" he asked quietly.
"I'm fine," she said quickly, straightening up. "Just tired."
She reached out and brushed a bit of dust off his sleeve, the way she always did. Like no matter how old he got, he was still the little boy she used to send off to school with a packed lunch and a kiss on the forehead.
"You've been working again?" she asked, glancing at his hands.
"They're always working," Malik said.
"That's what I'm afraid of."
He gave her a small smile. "I fixed something today," he said.
"Oh, yeah?" she said. "What was it this time?"
"A car."