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My phone buzzed in my pocket; it was the buzz of my vibration notification that I’d set for any unknown or hidden number. Which meant that … they were trying to call me yet again. I didn’t pick up the phone for them, and they didn’t leave a message.
But I knew that it was them every time.
What were they calling for? I didn’t know, and I didn’t care.
“You know, Imani might not seem like it, but she’s high maintenance,” Mrs. Abara said. “She’s gotta get her nails and toes done every week, her hair styled for the biggest events at school. Oh, and you’re going to have a ball with her at senior prom. She’ll drive you nuts over looking perfect, but you have to please her. Do you understand?”
“If you’re trying to deter me from her”—I slid the knife through the end of a strawberry to cut off the stem—“it’s not going to work. I … I love her.”
“I’m not trying to deter you from her. I’m informing you.”
“Why? Why are you acting this way to me?” I asked. “I thought you hated me.”
“Because Imani is right. I know that you and your little gang are able to protect her in ways that I’m not cut out for.” She paused, as if she was contemplating on saying more. “And I fear that, one day, I won’t be able to protect my daughter at all. Akio’s parents are killers,” she whispered. “They’ll take advantage of the town being in chaos the way it is now, and one day … Imani’s father and I will be next on their hit list.”
