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390 pages, Hardcover
First published January 24, 2017
“Well, people tend not to think clearly when a black girl is suspected of killing a little white girl,” Ms. Cora says.
Most of my life, no one has bothered to explain anything to me. It’s been one “’cause I said so” scenario after another. I stopped asking questions and in six years I have not run into one adult who would do me the common courtesy of explaining why something is happening to me.
“What does it mean when you love and hate someone at the same time?” I ask.
He laughs. “It means they family.”
Guess birthdays don’t mean nothing in a group home. I mean, it kind of makes sense. Hard to celebrate the day you were born when everybody seems to wish you were never born at all. Especially after you come into this world and fuck it all up.
That joke of a bookshelf has the same crap they had in baby jail I’ve inhaled three times over and I’d kill for something - anything - new to read. But I’d never say that out loud. I’m a killer after all; they’d probably think I’d really do it. Figures of speech are luxuries convicted murderers are not allowed to have.
But I can’t be a fly, not today. I have to prepare. Be on high alert and focused. Because in a few hours, the most dangerous, most diabolical, most conniving woman in the world is visiting me today:
“Doesn’t matter what you say about racial equality, you’ve never seen white families storming the steps of city hall demanding justice for a little black baby. They’re pushing for the death penalty and don’t even realize executing this little girl is no different than murdering that baby.”