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A week before the fight, police shot a black girl, seventeen, same age as Alice. Her name was Brionne Mathews. It happened in the parking lot after a football game at a school across town. Nothing the news said made sense, something about a fight between gangs and some people had guns. The girl had on one gang’s colors, but so did a lot of people. They were the same colors as one of the teams playing that night.
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“I don’t like this,” Xelon murmured, her fingers curled into fists at her sides. She would have looked more imposing in something other than a large Chococat sleep shirt.
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