It couldn’t be her. I hadn’t heard her name in years, but I never forgot what landed her behind bars. Her story was one of the main reasons I’d decided to pursue a career in the criminal justice system. Alayah had not only been my classmate from elementary school all the way through high school, but she was my friend. I remembered her being shy and timid, yet sweet and so damn beautiful.
She had the most beautiful natural curls that were always wild and free. Her skin was caramel colored, smooth, and peppered with freckles. She was the first black woman I’d ever seen with freckles. Her beauty was unmatched.
She didn’t talk to too many people, but I’d been lucky enough to get partnered with her for a science project. Being that we spent a lot of time together working on it, I got to see a side of her that most people weren’t privy to. Not only was she beautiful, but she was smart as hell, and she was goofy—both qualities I found attractive.
“Damn,” I mumbled as I read through the file.
I knew why she want to jail, but I’d never seen all the details laid out in black, white, and color pictures. The gruesome images of Rodney West almost made my stomach turn. There was so much anger and rage packed into the twenty-six stab wounds he’d received to his neck, face, and chest. He was unrecognizable. There were pictures of Alayah covered in his blood after the incident. There were pictures of her bloody bedroom. It was a horrible sight.
The file mentioned she’d accused him of molesting and raping her for years. She gave detailed accounts of several instances and even alleged that there were tapes—tapes that had never been found. The details alone should have been an indicator that she was telling the truth.
I thought back to all the times I got the feeling that something was going on with her back then. I’d met Rodney a few times when I went to her house to work on our project or study, and he was always affectionate with her. He was affectionate with her sisters, but especially with her. I remembered how blank her face would go when he hugged her or kissed her cheek. I remembered the sigh of relief she’d breathe when he left the room or the house.
I thought back to one of those moments. We were in the kitchen studying for an exam when he came in. I saw the way her shoulders tensed when he walked into the room and came to stand behind her. Stooping, he kissed her cheek.
“Hey prettygirl,” he said, squeezing her shoulders.
“Hey, Rodney,” she mumbled.
He looked at me. “Killian, right?”
“Uh, yes, sir.”
“Youtwo studying hard or hardly studying?” He chuckled at hisown joke as he stroked Alayah’s hair.
“Studying hard,” I answered. “Well, I’m studying. Alayah already seems toknow the answers.”
“My girl is a smart one.”
Sheslightly shrugged his hands away. “We have to finish studying.”
“Okay, baby.” Again, he kissed her cheek. “Nice seeing youagain, Killian.”
He patted my shoulder as he walked away. She sighed heavily, seemingly shaking away the feelings his handsleft behind.
“I don’t like him. Don’t letthe niceness fool you. He’s an asshole.”
She saidthat with so much venom in her voice. I didn’t say anything. When it was time to go, shewalked me to the door to say goodbye.
“If Idon’t pass this test, I’m blaming you,” Ijested.
“You’ll do fine, Killian. You’re smart.”
“Notas smart as you.”
She blushed. “I’ll see youat school.”
I hesitated for a moment before pulling herin for a hug. Her body tensed momentarily, then relaxedas she hugged me back. From his spot on thecouch, I could see Rodney watching us.
“See you,” Isaid, finally pulling away.
I remembered her coming to school the next day looking completely out of it. She was present, but mentally she wasn’t there at all. I asked her what was wrong, and she brushed it off as she was just tired from taking care of her sisters and doing chores.
I let it go because I’d met her mother. I heard the way she spoke to her and saw the way she treated her. There were times I’d helped her clean or volunteered to cook dinner while she helped her sisters with homework just so she wouldn’t get in trouble. I thought about all of that as I sat looking at her file.
Regret filled me.
Why hadn’t I said anything? Why hadn’t I made her tell me what was going on?
