The bookstore's basement had a damp chill to it, like secrets lived in the walls.
Raquel paced in circles, rubbing her arms as if trying to warm herself from the inside out. The letter from her mama sat on the table, folded neatly — too neatly. Like she feared even creasing it wrong would break her.
Moms watched her with the kind of sadness only a woman who's buried too much already can wear.
"Baby... you gotta sit," moms whispered.
Raquel shook her head.
"If I sit, I'mma fall apart."
I stepped closer.
"You allowed to fall apart."
She stopped pacing, her eyes meeting mine — shaking, angry, brave.
"Not anymore."
Eli cleared his throat, walking forward with a manila folder.
"ShotCaller Zero. The name your father took after he left the islands."
Raquel flinched, but nodded for him to continue.
"He controls a network that stretches from Oakland to Puerto Rico. Protected by money, blood, and fear."
Lalo, still munching Cheetos like this was Netflix night, chimed in:
"So basically... y'all daddy's daddy out here."
Eli gave him a look that could murder.
Lalo shrugged.
"What? I'm just saying."
Raquel sat finally, her voice barely above a whisper.
"Why does he want me?"
Moms inhaled deeply.
"Because you're the only person alive who can expose him. Your mother stole evidence from him before she died. Evidence that could burn his empire to the ground."
Raquel looked down at the letter.
"And now he thinks I know where it is."
Moms nodded.
"He ain't gon' stop."
Raquel's voice turned cold.
"Neither am I."
YOU ARE READING
Deju're
Non-FictionDeju're is a want for nothing Oakland,Ca kid that was raised by a female drug lord which is his mother Déjà who has been raised in the Oakland hills all her life. he goes to fresno,Ca to visit his cousin and things start to unravel about his dads mu...
