not a wealthy man.
He worked hard, came home tired, and still found time to help Malik with his schoolwork.
He believed his son would become somebody one day.
Maybe you’ll build something here, Ellis told him one evening, pointing across the open land.
A shop, a home, maybe something bigger than I can imagine.
Malik was only nine then.
He did not understand legacy.
He only understood that when his father spoke about the land, his voice became serious.
Then one afternoon, a black car stopped in front of
