Chapter 1 - THE GLOVES IN THE GRASS
The black gloves landed in the grass with a dull thud.
“Put them on, mighty sister-in-law,” Marcus Caldwell shouted. “Or should I break your arm and send you to the hospital in front of your daughter?”
Behind him, his father, Warren, laughed as if this were entertainment instead of a threat. “Teach that pathetic desk soldier a lesson,” he called. “Show her who runs this neighborhood.”
Nearly forty people had gathered at the end of our suburban street for the cookout. They stood holding paper plates, plastic cups, and half-eaten burgers while smoke drifted from the grill and a sprinkler hissed across the next lawn. No one laughed with Warren. A few neighbors looked away. Others stared at Marcus, waiting for someone else to do something first.
At the edge of the crowd, my eleven-year-old daughter Lily stood frozen. Her fingers twisted the hem of her striped T-shirt until the fabric bunched into tight little knots. Her face had gone pale.
She wasn’t watching Marcus.
May you like
She was watching me.
Waiting to see whether her mother could keep her safe.
