Zainab:Miss you. When are you coming home?
I smiled. Actually smiled.
Me:Tomorrow morning. Got some good news to share.
Zainab:Can’t wait. Love you.
Me:Love you more.
I put the phone away and looked at my brothers. Quest was already ordering another bottle, talking about how we should frame a screenshot of the mugshot and hang it in the family room. Justice was almost smiling—the closest thing to happy I’d seen from him in months.
We’d done it. We’d actually done it.
Vivica was finished. Zainab’s case would fall apart. And once I got her back home, we could finally start building the life we’d been fighting for.
“Aight.” I stood up, draining the last of my glass. “I’m out. Early flight tomorrow.”
“You’re leaving?” Quest looked offended. “We’re celebrating!”
“You celebrate. I got a pregnant fiancée waiting for me.” I dapped him up, then pulled Justice into a hug. “Love y’all. Couldn’t have done this without you.”
“Family first,” Justice said. “Always.”
“Always,” Quest agreed.
I headed for the door, feeling lighter than I had in months. Maybe years.
Behind me, I heard Quest call out: “Tell Zainab we said what up! And that her man is a certified genius!”
I threw up a peace sign without turning around.
Tomorrow I’d be home. Tomorrow I’d hold Zainab in my arms and tell her that the nightmare was finally over. That our mother couldn’t hurt us anymore. That we were free.
Tomorrow was going to be a good day.
32
FARAH
Day six in this shitty rental house and I was starting to lose my mind.
It was a far cry from my penthouse and the estate my father lived in. It was so small and cramped. And then everything smelled like artificial lavender from those cheap plug-in air fresheners the owner had placed in here. I’d unplugged them all on day two, but the smell lingered, sickeningly sweet, coating the back of my throat every time I breathed.
I hadn’t slept more than a few hours at a time since I got here. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw Daddy’s face. Kasmi’s face. The compound in flames, federal agents swarming like roaches, everything we’d built being dismantled piece by piece.
Gone. All of it gone.
And for what? For Zainab fucking Ali. The woman who destroyed my family and somehow convinced the world she was the victim.
I sat in the living room with the curtains drawn, news playing low on the TV. Same routine as every other day, watching, waiting, looking for my moment. My phone buzzed with a news alert. Ever since things went down, I placed Google Alerts on Vivica, and the whole Banks family.
BREAKING: DC Mayor Vivica Banks arrested in connection with murder of assistant India Coleman.
I grabbed the remote and turned up the volume.
I saw THE Vivica Banks in handcuffs. The Mayor of DC doing the perp walk for the whole world to see. They were shoving her into the back of a squad car like she was some street criminal, not the woman who’d been running the nation’s capital for years.
My jaw hing so low, I could trip over it. I swear I drooled a bit because I was so dumbfounded. What in the entire fuck?!
