This Is My America(68)

“Chris yelled at me like I did something. He was freaking out. I was trying to get past him to Angela and he was freaking out, so I decked him. We started fighting.” Jamal chokes on his words. “I got past Chris. That’s when I saw it—blood seeping from the back of her head. Chris kept saying it was my fault. Angela’s eyes were open, but she was gone. I yelled at Chris to get help. He ran to his truck. I laid my jacket over her. Then I realized he was driving away. I could hear a car coming off the highway.”



Jamal faces me, his eyes clouding and guilt washing over him.

“Why did you run instead of wait for the police?”

“She was already…gone. I was out of my mind, not thinking about my jacket. Just knowing I didn’t want to leave her like that, but also knowing I had to get outta there. They weren’t going to believe me…Chris left. And he’d been saying it was my fault. I realized he probably killed her, and him leaving meant I’d be the main suspect once he got to his dad.” Tears fill his eyes. “Sometimes I feel like we’re cursed.”

“It’s not your fault,” I say, even though I know the feeling. We’ve never caught a break. All those years praying, going to church, looking over our shoulders when we didn’t do anything wrong.

“Nah, you don’t hear me. See all these books.” Jamal points around to the scattered books I hadn’t noticed are from the collections we’ve rotated in and out to Daddy. W. E. B. Du Bois, James Baldwin, Thurgood Marshall, Michelle Alexander, Ta-Nehisi Coates. Then a week’s worth of newspapers.

“They all say the same thing over and over again—it doesn’t matter when they were written. The laws might change, the systems might look different. All these books say what the problem is. Working ten times harder to get half. Seems to me, all the blood that’s been spilled ain’t our debt. But we paying it over and over again. And the world acts like there’s something wrong with us. They hate us so damn much.”



Jamal’s voice is cracking, desperate words that have been suffocating him.

“Four hundred years, and we still ain’t American to them, T. All that blood. We built America. Black labor built the greatest nation in the world for free. They ripped us from our family then, and they do it again with new laws disguised as change. I’ll be in prison doing that labor for free.”

“But we have a superweapon: Innocence X. A real chance. Not like before.”

“If I turn myself in, I’m getting the death penalty. Unless what, I plead? Unless I say I did it, I killed Angela? Then I get what, life without parole?”

“It won’t be like Daddy.”

“It will be!” Jamal’s hand grazes over the newspapers and they whoosh, floating to the floor. “Them cops weren’t ever going to think I didn’t kill…Angela.” Jamal gets choked up. “Not when the sheriff’s son says different. Not when I ran. Not with Angela gone.”

“But you had to know…leaving your jacket…they’d come after you.”

“I was in shock, seeing Angela.” Jamal chokes up again. “When I got home, I cleaned myself and was planning to call in like I was worried about Angela, that she’d gone to the Pike. Then they’d find her. If they asked about the jacket, I was gonna say I left it in her car. It was a stupid idea, but it was a plan. But all that fell apart when the police showed up before I could get my story out. And the first to arrive was the sheriff. I knew Chris must’ve pinned it on me, and I wouldn’t stand a chance.”



A hot flush creeps up my face. I touch my neck like I can stop it. My questions being answered, terrifying to think Jamal went through all of that. No wonder he ran.

“We need to get you to meet with Steve Jones from Innocence X. He’ll know what to do.”

“I can’t risk it. If the police find me, I’m done. And if they even think you might know, you’re in danger.”

Jamal doesn’t budge; he’s not going to stop hiding when we don’t have any evidence yet to prove his innocence.

“I’ll call Steve—he’ll know what to do. Then we go from there.”

“Then what, I walk home? If they find out you know where I am, they’ll be all over looking for me.”

“What, then?”

“Can you get hold of Mandy? She’s the only one I can think of that Angela would’ve told about what she was doing.”

I swallow hard. Angela was going to let me in on her exposé but never got to it. Mandy knew a little, but I don’t think she knows as much as Jamal’s hoping for.

“I’ll talk to Mandy again. I got a little bit from her before. She was scared, but she doesn’t think you did it, Jamal.”

Jamal’s eyes soften.



“We got a community meeting this evening about the cross burning. Then I’ll track down Mandy. If she speaks out, saying you wouldn’t hurt Angela, maybe we can get Beverly to safely bring you in for questioning. They can’t do anything in front of a whole station. The entire police force can’t be crooked.”

“Oh, they can’t?” Jamal huffs out.

“They can’t.” I look away because I honestly don’t know who to trust. I just know Jamal can’t keep hiding out here. He’s gonna get caught.