Jasmine looked at Dana and rolled her eyes. Stepping out of the car, she reached under the driver’s seat and pulled something out. It wasn’t until Jasmine stuffed the item in the top of her pants that Dana realized Jasmine had a gun too.

  Derrick got out of the car. He and Jasmine walked into the pizza parlor and went right up to the checkout counter like they were getting ready to order a slice. Dana rolled the window down. From where she sat in the back seat of the car, in front of the big glass windows on the double-door entry, she could see every inch of the pizza parlor. She started shaking as Derrick and Jasmine pulled out their guns simultaneously.

  What was she doing? Why was she here? Dana was terrified. She put her hand on the door handle, seriously thinking about leaving her post. She saw the clerk open the register and hand Derrick the money while Jasmine had her gun trained on the busboy. The same busboy who handed Derrick those napkins last week.

  Dana started looking around, trying to see whether anyone was paying attention to what Derrick and Jasmine were doing. But most people walked on by, not looking anywhere but straight ahead. Then she saw Derrick point toward the back door. The clerk moved from behind the cash register and opened the door to the back of the shop. Derrick disappeared behind the door with the clerk.

  Dana’s stomach tied itself in knots. Yes, she and her mother needed money, but they didn’t need it this bad, did they? She opened the door and got out of the car. She was going to walk home. Dana didn’t care if Derrick broke up with her. This was not the life for her.

  Bang! Bang!

  Dana dropped down at the side of the building and craned her neck so she could peek into the parlor. She saw Jasmine moonwalking toward the door. The busboy ducked behind one of the tables. Jasmine opened the door and ran out. Then she got back in the car and quickly started it.

  “Wait!” Dana yelled. She jumped up from her spot against the wall of the building. “Where’s Derrick?” she yelled at Jasmine.

  Jasmine sped off.

  “Wait!” Dana screamed again. But Jasmine kept going. Dana swung around and saw the door to the back room of the pizza parlor open. Derrick shuffled out, holding his chest as he ran toward the entrance. Blood was on his shirt and dripping from his hand as he pressed it against his chest. He struggled to push open the glass doors. Dana’s mind was telling her to flee, but her heart prompted her to help her man.

  Her heart won the battle. And as the clerk came out of the back, chasing after Derrick, Dana pulled the door open so Derrick could escape. She saw a gun in the clerk’s hand. He raised it and fired a shot.

  Derrick dropped to the ground, blood splattering everywhere. Dana screamed. “D-D-Derrick. Oh my God!” Her face was an ocean of tears as she fell to her knees next to Derrick’s bloody body.

  She put his head on her lap. “Derrick, Derrick, can you hear me? Please don’t die. Don’t die, okay?”

  Dana rubbed his face with her now blood-soaked hands. His eyes fluttered. “I’m here, baby. Don’t die on me.”

  She heard sirens. Dana prayed someone had called an ambulance for Derrick. Her heart was so heavy at seeing him fall to the ground covered in blood. But when she glanced up, the clerk was standing above her, pointing the gun at her.

  “Don’t move. The law will take care of you.”

  Derrick jerked in her arms. “Call an ambulance!” she screamed at the man.

  Dana’s hands trembled, not only because someone was holding a gun on her, but Derrick jerked again. His stomach heaved, blood trickled from his mouth as the light in those gorgeous eyes of his dimmed, and he went still.

  “Noooo!” She held on to him and hugged him tight, not wanting to let him go or acknowledge he was really and truly gone. Her tears dropped on his face as she was roughly snatched away.

  “Stand up. Put your hands against the wall.”

  Dana’s head swiveled around. A police officer was holding on to her arm. He shoved her against the wall. “Hands up.”

  “I didn’t do anything!” Dana screamed. She pointed at the clerk. “He’s the one with the gun.”

  The officer took her hands and roughly placed them against the wall. He then kicked her legs out and began patting her down. He read her rights, handcuffed her, and put her in the back of his police car.

  All the while, Dana was screaming, “Why are you doing this? I didn’t do anything wrong!”

  The officer slammed the door and then went back to stand next to Derrick’s lifeless body. Tears like a river cascaded down her face. Derrick was dead. She would never see him again. She was in the back of a police car, and she had no idea what was going to happen. Dana only knew she wanted to go home.

  But where was home for her? Could God really be so cruel as to trade the bad situation her mother created by getting them evicted for a worse one? She’d rather sleep on the streets than spend one night in jail, but who would help her? Who could she turn to?

  Chapter 9

  It was Tuesday afternoon and Lisa was getting ready to leave the corner store when she noticed a crowd gathering outside.

  Her daddy was standing behind the checkout counter. “What in the world is going on out there?”

  “Who knows?” Lisa said as she stepped outside. She scanned the area. To her left was the memorial wall. The artist was on his ladder painting another face on it. A group of kids who looked to be about her age gathered on the sidewalk, looking up as the artist painted.

  Lisa wanted to know who had died, but she didn’t want to stand out there with the crowd. She knew her dad would come out of the store and tell her to go home, so she started walking toward the house.

  Shayla approached her. She hadn’t seen Shayla since that hot day they jumped in front of the fire hydrant and let the water cool them off.

  “Hey, girl. Did you hear what happened?”

  Lisa kept walking; Shayla walked with her. “What happened when?”

  “Oh my goodness, you really don’t know, do you?”

  Lisa lifted her hands, shrugged her shoulders. Then she glanced back at the crowd of people and the artist as he painted. “Don’t tell me one of our classmates died.”

  Shayla said, “Derrick Little got shot and killed last night.”

  Lisa glanced at the wall again. “Dana’s Derrick?”

  “Yes, girl. He tried to rob a pizza parlor, and the owner shot him.”

  Lisa turned to look at the crowd again. Where was Dana? She would expect to see her out here if her boyfriend had gotten shot. Or maybe she was at home crying her eyes out. She asked Shayla, “Have you seen Dana? How is she doing?”

  Shayla rolled her eyes heavenward. “You’re not going to believe this, but Dana was with him.”

  Sharp intake of breath. “Dana didn’t get shot. Please don’t tell me she did.”

  “No, but she got arrested. They’re saying she was the lookout person.”

  Lisa widened her eyes in horror. Her hand went to her mouth. She couldn’t speak. She had no words. Dana . . . what have you done? Why? Her eyes glistened as a tear trickled down her cheek.

  Dana never should have dated a guy like Derrick in the first place. She wasn’t the type of person to steal. Lisa had told her to get away from Derrick. Now her friend was paying the price of being with a man like him.

  “I’m sorry—I thought you knew.” Shayla hugged her and then stepped away.

  “I didn’t.”

  Shayla hesitated a moment, then said, “I feel bad, but I’ve got to go. My mom’s taking me shopping. I leave for college tomorrow.”

  “I’m happy for you, Shayla. You go on.” Lisa started walking up the street with a heavy heart. All the way home, with every step Lisa took, she called out Dana’s name to the Lord. Help Dana, Lord. Bring her out of this situation and bring good people into her life. Thank You, Jesus.

  * * *

  Dana spent the rest of the week crying herself to sleep on the dirty cot she had been instructed to lie on in her cell. A cell she shared with three other girls. This was the week some of her friends were going off to college, while she waited to go to court to find out how much time they would give her for being in the wrong place at the wrong time.

  And better yet, being in love with the wrong guy. She still couldn’t believe Derrick was dead. Somehow she expected to see his smiling face again, telling her he was going to get her out of this jam.

  But as she sat up on her cot and rocked back and forth, Dana knew Derrick wasn’t coming to rescue her. No one was. Not even her mother.

  Vida had visited her once in the entire week she’d been locked up like a caged animal. “I’m going to get you out of here,” Vida had told her as they cried together.

  Dana hoped her mother would come through for her, but after not hearing from her the rest of the week, Dana felt her hope begin to wane, as it did with every promise Vida had ever made to her.

  She made two collect calls to Lisa’s house, but neither call had been accepted. Dana began to face the cold, hard truth. She was alone in this world. And no one was coming to save her. She would have to save herself. Dana made a promise to herself. When she got out of prison, she would do whatever it took to be successful. She wasn’t going to let anything or anyone get in her way ever again.

  She didn’t need anybody . . . only herself. She was crying now, but one day she would be smiling. She was going to climb to the top, by any means necessary.

  Part 2

  Looking diligently lest any man fail of the grace of God; lest any root of bitterness springing up trouble you, and thereby many be defiled.

  Hebrews 12:15

  Journal Entry

  If someone had told me I would endure so much drama, I don’t know if I would have even tried to step out and do more with my life. Some days, however, I wonder whether I could have done more, been more, before the bottom fell out.

  Chapter 10

  2000—New century, new beginnings

  “John! You won’t believe it!” Lisa exploded into their apartment in the lower level of her father’s brownstone on Halsey Street. Arms pumping the air.

  John peeked his head out from the kitchen, wiping his hands on a dish towel. “What’s got you so excited?”

  Lisa met John Coleman during their junior year of college. They married right after graduation and moved into the lower-level apartment of her dad’s brownstone. John was not a New Yorker. His family was from Ohio. He had planned to be in New York only for college, so Lisa was thankful he agreed to stay with her in Brooklyn. There was no place on earth she would rather raise a family.

  “You are looking at the new director of operations at Liberty Advocates.” Liberty was a social services organization. The company provided training for people reentering the workforce, and they also helped clients find affordable housing and paid clients’ utilities when needed.

  This was Lisa’s dream job. The one she’d been vying for while she put in the work at the county welfare office. Now she would be the face of the organization, the one reporters would talk to during press conferences. She had spent years crossing every t and dotting every i to even get the chance to interview for this job.

  John picked her up and swung her around the kitchen. “Oh my goodness. You’ve been waiting for an answer from them for months.”

  “Tell me about it.” When John put her down, she fixed her jacket. “I thought Kennedy would be in high school before I heard whether I got the job or not.”

  They sat down at the kitchen table. John asked, “When do you start?”

  “I have to give the county a two-month notice so we can hire a replacement and I can train them.”

  John hugged her. “I’m proud of you.” He glanced over at the stove. “I was making a white-bean chili, but with news like this, I think I should take you out to dinner. How’s Royal Rib House sound?”

  “You know I love their food.” She rubbed her hands together and licked her lips.

  John put the kitchen towel on the table. “Should I tell Kennedy to get dressed, or do you want to go on a date night? It has been a while.”

  They had now been married for eleven years. Ten years ago they welcomed their beautiful daughter, Kennedy, who was named after John’s grandmother. The name also reminded Lisa of the thirty-fifth president. Since her husband’s name was John, she was all in. But if Lisa had known her mother would pass away five years after the birth of her granddaughter, she would have named her child Brenda. The death of her mother stung like nothing she could have imagined, but John and Kennedy brought her comfort.

  Lisa leaned close to her husband and pressed her mouth against his moist lips. “We’ve both been busy building our careers. It will pay off for us, wait and see.” She stood up. “Let me see if Daddy will watch Kennedy so we can have our long-overdue date night.”

  “Tell him there’s a bowl of white-bean chili in it for him.”

  “Oh, he’ll definitely agree to watch his only grandchild for some of your chili.” Lisa laughed at her husband’s attempt to bribe her father. Truth was, Deacon David Whitaker was semiretired since he suffered a heart attack last year, but he loved spending time with his granddaughter. Said she reminded him of Mama.

  Lisa didn’t see her mother in Kennedy yet, but her father smiled every time he set eyes on the girl. She brought him joy, so Lisa let him talk about how his granddaughter was a miniature version of his Brenda.

  She left her apartment and climbed the stairs to the main part of the house. The way the brownstones were set up, she also could have entered the main house by opening the door to the hallway on the parlor level, but she had asked her father to keep the door locked so he didn’t feel as if he could enter her apartment anytime he felt the urge.

  She rang the doorbell, then looked to her left and saw a young couple entering Mrs. Mabel’s house. Actually, it wasn’t her house anymore. Mama was gone, and Mrs. Mabel was gone. Mrs. Mabel’s children had decided to sell her brownstone. Sighing deeply, Lisa looked on the other side and saw a For Sale sign on the brownstone next door. Things were changing in Bed-Stuy. Not all the changes were good. They were losing the community feel.

  It sure was taking her father a long time to come to the door. She rang the doorbell again. She heard him on the stairs but didn’t understand why he was taking so long. She put her face against the windowpane of the double-entry front door. He was putting both feet on each step and slowly making his way to the door as he held on to the banister like it was a security blanket. When she was younger, she would jump down those stairs two at a time.

  Lisa was now thirty-three years old. Her father was sixty-two. He should have been able to take those stairs with no problem, but all the heavy lifting at the corner store had caught up with him. He’d been having knee and back problems lately.

  He finally made it to the door and opened it. “Sorry it took me so long to answer the door. I went upstairs for a nap. You should have used your key.”

  “I left my purse in the apartment. Are your knees still bothering you?”

  Lisa followed David inside, and he sat down on the sofa in the living room and rubbed his knees. “They’re swelling on me again.”

  “Oh, Daddy, I’m sorry you’re in so much pain lately.”

  David pointed toward the front of the house. “Those stairs don’t make it any better. I seriously need a bedroom on the first floor.”

  “Why don’t you have your bed moved into the living room? It’s not like you have tons of visitors anymore.”

  Still rubbing his knees, David smirked. “Your mother would roll over in her grave if I destroyed her showpiece living room like that.”

  Lisa laughed. The plastic was still on the sofa and chair her mother purchased in 1980. Her parents rarely allowed anyone to sit on the furniture. And if someone did sit in the living room, her father made sure they knew there would be no horseplay—no jumping up and down.

  When Kennedy was three, she took pink, purple, and black markers and drew on Lisa’s sofa. Lisa then realized how much of a genius her mother had been for understanding that kids will tear your stuff up. “But Mama wouldn’t want you suffering going up and down those stairs.”

  “The Rumbleys are selling their home,” he told her.

  “I saw the sign in their yard.” Lisa bit down on her lower lip. “The neighborhood is changing, and I’m not sure if I like it.”

  “People are getting older. The Rumbleys are moving to Florida to get out of this cold weather. And Mrs. Mabel died.”

  Lisa didn’t like thinking about Mrs. Mabel not being next door anymore. When she was a kid, Mrs. Mabel would always give her candy. She would always encourage her. Lisa barely knew the names of the couple who moved into Mrs. Mabel’s house and doubted very seriously if they had said an encouraging word to Kennedy.

  “Doctor says this cold weather is causing my arthritis to act up.” He pointed to his knees. “And this swelling is not helping matters either.”

  “Oh, Daddy.” Lisa sat down next to him and put a hand on his back. “I feel so bad for you.”

  He nodded before saying, “Truth is, this house is too big for me. I’ve been thinking about selling this place ever since your mama passed. Maybe I need to move down to Florida too.”

  Lisa jumped out of her seat. Hands to her hips. “Now you are talking foolish, Daddy. You know Mama wouldn’t want you to sell this house to some strangers. It needs to stay in the family.”

  David sighed deeply. “I wish I could, but I can’t afford two houses.”

  Lisa felt sick to her stomach at the thought of losing the home she grew up in. Things were changing so fast in her neighborhood she could barely keep up. Her father’s lease was up at the corner store, and the owners wanted to turn it into a restaurant.

  She put her hands to her face as she stood in the living room, staring at the steps leading to her childhood bedroom. Everything about this house was familiar to her. She still felt her mother’s love in every room. She couldn’t let some stranger buy their home and wipe away all her memories.