Page 41 of Certified Pressure 3
Chapel Grove
“Zurie!” I called out from the kitchen.
“Yeah?” she called back, her little voice floating through the house like always.
“Are you ready for your grilled cheese sandwich?”
“Almost!” she yelled, her focus still buried in the iPad Pressure bought her. I smiled to myself while flipping her sandwich on the stove. The butter sizzled and filled the air with that sweet smell that always made Zurie dance in her seat when I set her plate down.
It was just one of those quiet afternoons that felt normal for once. My uncle Lionel and Aunt Deanne were at work, and thehouse was peaceful. The TV in the living room was low, playing one of Zurie’s shows about kids baking cupcakes, and I had some soft R&B playing on my phone. I was just glad to see Zurie calm, laughing at the screen.
I cut the sandwich into triangles like she liked and reached for the plate, but right then there was a knock at the door.
It wasn’t a light knock either. It was heavy, loud, and made me freeze for a second.
My first thought was maybe Uncle Lionel finally made it home, but then the knock came again, harder this time. I frowned, turned off the stove, and set the spatula down. Something about it didn’t feel right.
“Zurie, come sit at the table and eat, okay?” I said, trying to sound calm. “Don’t move ‘til I come back.”
She nodded and climbed onto the chair, swinging her legs under the table while I wiped my hands on a towel. I walked to the door, my heart picking up, and peeked through the peephole.
Two police officers stood outside.
My stomach dropped.
For a moment, I just stared through the peephole, trying to understand why the hell they would be here. My mind raced with all kind of wild thoughts. Did something happen to Aunt Deanne or Uncle Lionel? Did they get in a wreck? Was it about a neighbor?
I opened the door a crack and said, “Can I help you?”
The taller officer stepped forward, looking straight at me. “Are you Pluto Monroe?”
I froze for a second, my hand still on the doorknob. “Uh… yeah. Why?”
He nodded and said, “Is Zurie Monroe in the residence with you?”
My eyebrows pulled together. “Yeah. Why? What’s going on?”
He looked at his partner, then back at me, and his tone changed. It was calm, but too official. “Miss Monroe, we have a warrant for your arrest for kidnapping a minor.”
It was like the floor disappeared from under me.
“What?” I said, my voice cracking. “Kidnapping? What the hell are you talking about?”
The other officer shifted his stance and said, “The judge signed off on it this morning. We’re here to take you into custody, and the child will be released into her mother’s care.”
“My mama?” I repeated, almost laughing from shock. “No, you got this wrong. My mama ain’t even been around! I’ve been taking care of my sister because nobody else will. My parents know exactly where she is. They just don’t care!”
“Ma’am,” the first officer said, keeping his voice calm but firm, “it’s out of our hands. You need to come with us. We don’t want to make this harder than it needs to be.”
I shook my head, backing away from the door. “No. No, this ain’t right. My mama can’t just?—”
Before I could finish, one of them stepped inside like I wasn’t even standing there and called out, “Zurie! Can you come here, sweetie?”
That’s when my chest tightened, and everything in me snapped. “Hey! You can’t just walk in here!” I shouted. “You don’t even have permission to be in this house!”
The taller one tried to hold up a hand to calm me, but I was already moving. I rushed past him toward the kitchen, where Zurie had stopped mid-bite, her big brown eyes wide with confusion and fear.
“Pluto, what’s happening?” she asked, her voice trembling.
