Page 350 of Kentrell

Jasmine paused, hand bracing against her hip like the weight of the story was setting in.

“Moments ago, CPD confirmed the identities of the two individuals killed in the crash… forty-year-old Tamera James and her twenty-five-year-old daughter, Kendra McCall… both longtime residents of the Chatham neighborhood.”

That’s when I felt Zoe freeze under my arm.

Her gasp came next.

Sharp. Gutted.

“Oh my God… Kendra?” she whispered, her voice breaking at the edges.

“Ohhh, my gosh!” Mars voiced her shock.

“That’s crazy?—”

“Who is that?” Rashad cut in, whispering to Ayesha.

“Zoe’s—she worked with Zoe.” She whispered back.

“Damnnn, that messed up.” Rashad’s eyes bucked.

I looked down at Zoe just as she covered her mouth with both hands before glancing back up.

Darius’s head whipped toward the TV too.

His reaction hit just as fast as Zoe’s.

“Damn,” he breathed, already reaching for his phone like instinct had taken over.

Before he could even unlock it, the screen lit up… ringing loud enough for half the room to hear.

Without even glancing down, he answered—eyes still locked on the TV like he couldn’t believe what he was seeing.

“Yeah, David… I just saw—” His voice cut off mid-sentence, his brows pulling tight. “What? What channel?”

His gaze lifted from his phone, face going pale.

“Yeah… yeah… hold on… turn it to CNN,” he said, glancing over at me.

I didn’t ask no questions. Just grabbed the remote and flipped the channel.

And there it was. Another news break. Another headline.

This time?

A whole different kind of storm.

“Breaking news out of Chicago…”

Hearing those five words again had everybody scooting toward the edge of their seats.

“Multiple sources close to the investigation have confirmed that prominent attorney, political insider… and recently announced candidate for Illinois Attorney General… Malcolm Anderson, was taken into custody early this afternoon following a suspected overdose incident tied to prostitution and narcotics…”

“Damnnnnnnnnnn!” Wani blared out, almost making me laugh out loud, but I kept it together.

The screen cut from the anchor desk to shaky on-location footage outside a high-rise in the Gold Coast.

We caught a glimpse of Malcolm being dragged from the building… shirt half-buttoned, pants barely secured, wrists cuffed behind his back…

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