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464 pages, Kindle Edition
First published September 9, 2014
“Playtime’s over. Are you ready to meet the Crow King?”
She knew all about the cops and their trigger fingers and their predilection for dealing with those who would attack their brethren. Her father had drummed such stories into her from a young age; more so into Whiz, who bore the burden of being a black boy about to grow into a black teen. If the police even look at you funny, Dad had said, you hit the ground and put your hands over your head. Don't talk back. Don't try to run. Don't try to explain. They're just looking for an excuse to shoot you. Don't give it to them.
The same would apply to Jazz, she knew, despite his white skin. He'd assaulted cops; bad enough. But he was also suspiciously tied to the death of an FBI agent, and that made Jazz the functional equivalent of a black teenager in a hoodie in a white neighborhood.