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The officer smiled wider. “Oh, we go back. He told me you were coming in today.” She looked at me with kind eyes that softened the chill in my bones. “Don’t you worry, sweetheart. You’re family now. We’re gonna make sure you’re taken care of.”

I turned to Priest with tears blurring my vision.

He only shrugged wearing a cool smile. “Told you I’d look out for you.”

That did it. My tears came fast and hard.

“Thank you,” I could barely get out as the officer gently touched my arm.

Priest’s hand lingered in mine until it couldn’t anymore. The officer gave him a nod that silently told him, “I got her,” before leading me through the metal detector.

She allowed me to watch him walk away, even after the door had closed.

“Time to go, sweetheart,” she gently told me.

I took one last look back, out of the door through the glass. I saw Priest standing with his eyes locked on me and his hands on Elijah and Essence’s shoulders. My parents flanked them, fighting to be able to see me as well. My last sight before I was forced to walk away was my whole heart, standing outsidethose walls, wrapped in the protection of the man who loved me enough to plan my peace before I even knew I needed it.

RAH

I stared at the folder on the table my lawyer had been flipping through for the past ten minutes like whatever was in it would change my chances.

He finally sighed, set his pen down, and looked me in the eye. “Rah, I won’t lie to you. They’ve got solid evidence putting you on the scene. Surveillance from the block, cell tower data from your phone, gunshot residue on your jacket, and a witness who swears they saw you leaving right after the shots were fired.”

My stomach turned. But I didn’t say anything, just leaned back in the hard chair with my jaw clenched as he kept going.

“This is your third open murder case. If you take any of them to trial, you risk everything. Illinois law doesn’t play. First-degree murder carries twenty years to natural life, and for these, the State’s pushing for life without parole. There’s no good-time credit for murder convictions. You’d serve every day.” He slid the plea deal toward me. “They’re offering fortyyears. You’d be eligible for supervised release afterward, but if you roll the dice and lose, you’ll die behind bars.”

I didn’t want to hear it. I didn’t want to admit it either, but he was right. I did kill Carlos, but he’d brought that shit on himself. He had the plug, power, and money, and he couldn’t even put me on. I wasn’t some little nigga he tossed crumbs to when he felt generous.

And Nell and Lavell were simps with no backbone. They didn’t deserve to flip money with me. They were sloppy, greedy, and dumb. I couldn’t keep letting people like that eat off me while I stayed hungry.

My lawyer talking about “life without parole” didn’t scare me because I regretted what I did. It scared me because it meant I might never get another chance to come back out and show these niggas who really ran shit.

I had stupidly told the truth about Moses, thinking it would help my case.

I should have turned on him and put it all on him.

“So, that’s it?” I spit. “Forty years or life?”

He nodded slowly. “That’s it.”

I looked down at the paper with my name printed bold under The State of Illinois vs. Rahzan Ramili, and my lawyer slid the pen across the table.

“If you sign it now,” he said. “They’ll take you straight to court for sentencing.”

It was like my body moved on its own. I picked up the pen and signed.

Two hours later, I was standing in front of the judge.

As the State read the plea agreement out loud, my lawyer stood beside me, whispering when to speak.

The judge asked the standard questions: Did anyone force you to sign this deal? Do you understand the terms of this deal? Are you pleading guilty because you are, in fact, guilty?

My voice barely made it out. “Yes, Your Honor.”

He reviewed the papers for what felt like forever before speaking again. “The court accepts the plea agreement. The defendant is sentenced to forty years in the Illinois Department of Corrections, followed by three years of mandatory supervised release.”

My fate was sealed with the bang of the gavel.