Chapter 3

By the time June and Shanelle got back to the house, Jasmine had fallen asleep on the sofa.

Chino picked his daughter up gently and carried her to her bedroom.

"Nelle, I'm sorry. Jas must have been really tired," June shook her head.

"Y'all can probably talk more in the morning, right?"

Shanelle shrugged. She didn't mind. She wasn't really in the best of places mentally to chat anyhow; her mind remained boggled by current events. She felt dirty... Unclean. And hungry; very hungry.

She and June had left earlier to see if they could return the food to the Matthews and give a statement, but by the time they re-circled, the road had been cut off by swarms of police cars.

For the past few hours they'd been talking to detectives and police officers, repeating what Shanelle witnessed over and over and over again.

They all seemed to stare at her with such intensity, she felt nauseated.

"At what point did you notice the man pull down the mask?"

"And where were you in the store?"

"What were you doing when you saw this happen? And what was your response?"

With each question, Shanelle had to force down the anxiety that pushed up through her airways.

"I, I don't know. I think I was looking at the frozen food items... And when I turned, I saw him. He threatened me and pretended he put a gun up to his head to pull the trigger. I didn't know what to do, so I watched him move in the mirror when the other two men cornered... Cornered Michael... Then I heard the shot after the first two left." Her voice was barely above a whisper whenever she got to that part.

Soon, she'd memorized her own story, word for word, from start to finish. The last time she was asked to repeated it, a detective looked her directly in the eyes in question.

"After you heard the shot, and saw Michael was hurt, what did you do? Did you call for help?"

"No... I... He thought I was shot, cus' after I hugged him, his blood was on me, so he called. But then we saw it was him; he couldn't walk straight... And fell." Heart racing, Shanelle intentionally avoided the specifics of the question.

"Our EMS team stated no one was with Michael when they got there. At what point did you leave, and why?"

Her breathing shallowed. She felt tears, but her eyes wouldn't moisten to let them out. "I... Um. When we saw he was hurt and he fell on the ground... I got scared ... I ran."

"You ran?"

"Yes sir, I ran."

He wrote furiously onto his notepad, and in doing so, Shanelle felt as if she were being condemned to death. Lowering her head, she struggled with an unsettling thought.

"Sir?"

"Yes?"

"Is he... Is Michael alright?"

There was a brief pause. To Shanelle, it felt like forever.

"I haven't been updated on that those details. We'll know soon enough, though. Until we can confirm a solid testimony from him as a living witness, we're pulling the security footage that was caught in the store. From my understanding, the Matthews have it so that those babies catch everything. "

And with that, he shook Shanelle's hand, thanked her for her time, and left her leaning up against June's car.

She felt as if the wind had been knocked out of her.

On the way back, June was adamant about their strategy. "Listen Nelle. When the Matthews get back around and they're in a good space to run the store again, you're gonna apologize and return these items." She shook her head clearly disappointed. "This is why you don't do bad things, even if you feel like you have to; all it takes is being in the wrong place at the wrong time. I'm sure they'll forgive you. They're nice Christian folks."

She continued to scold her in a firm parental manner. "If you EVER need anything... Just ask baby. Just ask. And if I or Mr. Johnson can't help, we'll work together to find some other way."

Shanelle failed to mention the police having access to what could be her ultimate undoing. She didn't have it in her to say it. Nodding in agreement, Shanelle sighed as they got out of the car to go in the house.

Chino hugged Shanelle before heading off to bed. Kissing her forehead in a way that put her in mind of what it'd be like to be cared for by a father, he patted her shoulder. "Don't worry Nelle. We'll figure this thing out together."

Fully expecting herself to break, she was surprised when no tears surfaced. It was like they'd been dried out of her. Why couldn't she cry?

Handing her a bundle of sheets and a quilted blanket, June turned Shanelle's face to look at her. "Listen. You'll be here for a while, and we don't know when you'll see ya' mama again. But mean time n' between time, relax and focus on your school work. We're gonna help as best as we can, but you..." She pointed at Shanelle, "you have to be the one to decide how you go on. We're gonna have a deeper talk later; I'm not sure you ready to handle everything all just yet... But focus Nelle. You got it in you... Okay?" June searched the young girl's face.

Nodding in solemn response, Shanelle received the bundle with simple gratitude. She'd heard June; yet all she could think about was the rumbling in her belly. And that security footage.

Not wanting to bother June any more than she felt like she already had been, Shanelle made her bed on the couch and suffered in silence. She'd forgotten to bring her bookbag with the left over "left overs" from last night and hoped it wouldn't start to mold; that was the only decent bag one she owned.

Turning the lights out, June left Shanelle in the living room.

Sitting on the couch, she breathed in the scent of the Johnson's house. It smelled of home cooked meals, pine cone and autumn air fresheners, and clean linen. It smelled like a place a child was supposed to be. It smelled safe... If that made sense.

Laying back, Shanelle stared up at the ceiling. She felt guilty knowing that it was fine with her if she never saw her mom again and had to stay here. A part of her was still angry. How long had her and her mom gone through the pain and the heartache of living with James? 3 years? It tore at Shanelle to think of all of her good clothes being taken from her to be sold for drugs. Her bedroom set... Their furniture... Not to mention the children James brought with him that didn't even belong to her mom; Mila and Honey.

Shanelle resented coming home after James moved in. She'd watched the mother she'd always known die, slowly being replaced by the need to get high, and a man who was more than willing to give her what she wanted.

It soon became her responsibility to take care of the girls, who were infants at the time, and make sure the important things were done. Though Vanessa's house no longer had a mortgage, they often went without water and electricity. The park water fountain became the source of how they got their bathing and drinking water. It didn't take long for things to go downhill.

After the girls started learned to walk, the next big thing was to get them potty trained. For some reason, James felt as if it were his responsibility to oversee it, beating them whenever they couldn't make it to the bathroom on time. His method proved to be more traumatizing than beneficial; even now, the girls still peed in the bed. That meant that the house reeked of urine 24/7. Shanelle knew she went to school smelling like the house, but there was little she could do about it, other than let her clothes air dry outside.