I walked beside Jamie, keeping her close as we followed behind, and every step felt heavier than the last as we made our way outside.
We drove toward the burial site where Rioh and Jaqwon were already laid to rest, and knowing Echo was about to be placed right beside them made it hard to even keep moving forward.
When we reached the cemetery, I stood there as they lowered her into the ground, my eyes fixed on the casket as it disappeared slowly, inch by inch, until it was no longer at eyelevel. Something about this moment made everything real in a way that standing over her inside the church had not.
This was it, and it was so final that it didn’t leave room for anything else.
I felt Jamie break down beside me completely then, her body folding into mine as she cried into my chest while I wrapped my arms around her and held her as tight as I could. My eyes then locked ahead on the ground where my children now rested. It was three graves side by side with dirt still fresh over them, and the only thing that sat in my mind was the fact that one man was still out here breathing.
By the time my daughter was buried, I had nothing left in me to give anybody, and even though people came up speaking, offering condolences, saying things they probably meant from a good place, I couldn’t receive any of it because it all sounded the same and none of it changed what I had just watched. None of it brought my children back, and none of it eased what was sitting on my broken heart.
They hugged me and told me they were praying for my family. I nodded when I needed to and spoke when it was expected, but none of it reached me in a way that mattered.
All I could see was those graves, and all I could feel was everything I had lost. And even with me still having A’Mii, it didn’t feel like it was enough to balance what I’d already lost.
Jamie stayed close to me the entire time, her hand never leaving mine. Even though we were surrounded by people, I had never felt more isolated in my life.
When it was finally over, we stepped away from the crowd. As we walked to the car in silence, I kept my eyes forward, feeling something that had nothing to do with grief anymore.
This was no longer about mourning, and I had just accepted that truth in a way that settled deep in me and refused to move.Grief had already done what it came to do, and it left behind something cold, dark, and nasty.
It was revenge…
I had spent my life operating within the boundaries of the law, shaping outcomes with words, with procedure and with control, but standing where I stood now, after burying my children and watching my family unravel piece by piece, I could feel that structure loosening its hold on me.
The rules that once guided me no longer carried the same weight, and the restraint that defined my position began to feel less like discipline and more like limitation, like something that had kept me from doing what should have been done the moment my sons hit the ground.
Kay’Lo Mensah had to die outside of prison.
It was time to take this shit into my own hands…
Days later…
It was Sunday, and I had just come to visit Thomas at his lake house. The quiet sitting over the water felt out of place against everything that had been happening inside the courtroom for weeks.
The trial had been dragging in a way that felt intentional, like every day was being stretched just enough to give the defense more room to breathe. I had spent enough time inside courtrooms to know the difference between a careful pace and a manipulated one.
Echo had been buried only days ago, and that image had not left me. It sat with me while I drove, while I spoke, and while I tried to function like a man who still believed any of this was being handled the way it should be. By the time I stepped onto Thomas’s deck and took the drink he handed me, I already knew this conversation was not going to be comfortable.
We sat facing the water, and for a few minutes, neither of us said anything. I let the silence sit just long enough to make it clear I wasn’t here for small talk, then I set my glass down and leaned forward.
“This trial is being mishandled. I need more movement,” I said.
Thomas didn’t look surprised. He took a sip of his drink and set it down carefully before responding. “You already have movement. I pushed the reassignment through. That judge is off your case.”
“And the one who replaced her is doing the same thing with a different tone,” I replied. “She smiles more, she sounds more reasonable, but she’s still giving them time. She’s still allowing the defense to drag witnesses, to reframe testimony, and to chip away at momentum that should have already buried that motherfucker.”
“That is called due process,” he replied.
“That is called letting a murderer get comfortable,” I answered, holding his gaze. “We are weeks into this trial, Thomas, and he is sitting there like he expects to walk out of it.”
Thomas leaned back slightly, watching me closer now. “You are too close to this.”
“I buried three of my damn children! I am exactly as close as I need to be!” I exclaimed, feeling myself get angrier.
He exhaled slowly, but he didn’t argue that.
“What do you want?” he asked finally.
