Chapter 11 Zainab
ZAINAB
The white casket sat at the front of Greater Hope Baptist Church like an accusation.
I couldn’t stop staring at it. Couldn’t stop thinking about what was inside—who was inside—and the fact that my nephew had put him there. And now we were walking into this church full of grieving people, dressed in our funeral best, pretending to mourn like everybody else.
God was definitely keeping score today.
Yusef was next to me, silent and still in the suit Prime had bought him earlier this week.
Navy blue. Crisp white shirt. Tie that I’d had to knot three times because my hands wouldn’t stop shaking.
He looked older in that suit. More grown.
Like the childhood had been pressed right out of him along with the wrinkles in the fabric.
Prime was on Yusef’s other side so our nephew he was flanked. Protected. Like we were his security detail instead of his family.
I guess in a way, we were both.
The church steps had been crowded with people. Some I recognized from the building—neighbors, parents from the school, folks who’d known Nigel since he was a baby. Others were strangers, probably family from out of town, come to pay their respects.
Everyone was dressed in black. Everyone looked broken.
And here we were. Sitting in this funeral like we belonged. Like we had any right to be here. Like my nephew wasn’t the reason all these people were crying.
Lord, forgive us.
“They’re going to ask people to come view the body,” I said quietly, leaning close to Yusef’s ear. “We don’t have to go up there if you don’t want to.”
“I have to.” His voice was barely audible. “If I don’t, people will notice. They’ll think it’s weird.”
He was right. Nigel’s best friend refusing to say goodbye? That would raise questions we couldn’t afford to answer.
“Okay.” I squeezed his hand again. “Prime will go with you.”
Prime nodded, already understanding without me having to explain. “I got him.”
The service started with a hymn. The choir’s voices filled the church, beautiful and mournful, and I watched people around us break down.
Brandi was in the front row, sobbing into a tissue, surrounded by women I assumed were her sisters or cousins.
Zoo sat next to her, stone-faced, his jaw tight enough to crack teeth.
He was scanning the crowd.
Looking for something. Or someone.
I dropped my eyes to my lap, heart pounding. Did he know? Had he figured it out somehow? Was he looking for Yusef right now, waiting to—
Stop. Stop it. He doesn’t know anything. Nobody knows anything. Just breathe.
The pastor spoke. Family members gave testimonials. People talked about what a good kid Nigel was, how much potential he had, how he was taken too soon.
I wanted to scream.
Good kid? This “good kid” had been beating my nephew bloody for months. Stealing from him. Threatening to have me killed. This “good kid” had made Yusef’s life a living hell until he felt like he had no other choice but to—
When it was time to view the body, people filed up row by row.
I felt Yusef’s hand tighten in mine, bones grinding together from the pressure.
“You got this,” I whispered. “Prime’s right there. Just breathe.”
Prime stood first, then Yusef, then me. We joined the slow procession toward the front of the church, each step feeling like a mile.
The casket got closer. Closer. I could see the white satin lining now. The edge of Nigel’s suit jacket. His hands folded across his chest.
Yusef stopped.
Just froze, mid-step, like his body had decided it wasn’t going any further.
Prime was right there. His hand came up to rest on Yusef’s shoulder—firm, grounding, steady.
“I’m right here,” Prime said, low enough that only we could hear. “Take your time. Breathe. You can do this.”
Yusef took a shaky breath. Then another. Then he started walking again.
We reached the casket.
Nigel looked… peaceful. That was the worst part. They’d done his makeup nice, covered up whatever damage the bullet had done. Put him in a sharp black suit. Folded his hands like he was sleeping. He looked like any other teenage boy taking a nap.
Not like a bully. Not like a monster. Not like someone who’d made my nephew want to kill himself.
Just a kid. A dead kid.
Yusef stared down at him, and I couldn’t read his face. Couldn’t tell if he was about to break down or throw up or confess everything right here in front of God and everybody.
His chest was rising and falling too fast. His hands were trembling at his sides.
I watched him close his eyes. Watched his lips move in something that might have been a prayer. Or an apology. Or a curse. I’d never know.
Then he opened his eyes, turned, and walked back toward our seats.
I followed, my legs feeling like they might give out at any moment.
We made it. We actually made it.
When the service finally ended, people started milling around. Hugging. Crying. Making plans to go to the repast at Brandi’s mother’s house.
I was trying to figure out how quickly we could leave without being rude when I spotted them.
Three boys. Probably fourteen, fifteen years old. Standing in a cluster near the side door, looking at their phones, barely paying attention to the grieving family around them.
I recognized them.
Tyler. Deon. Some other kid whose name I didn’t know. Nigel’s crew. The ones who’d helped him jump Yusef. The ones who’d laughed while my nephew bled on the ground.
And now here they were. At the funeral. Acting like they’d lost their best friend when really they’d just lost their ringleader.
Hypocrites. Every last one of them.
Yusef had spotted them too. I could tell by the way his body went rigid next to me.
Deon looked up from his phone. Made eye contact with Yusef. And then this little smirk crossed his face. I wanted to slap it off of him.
“Yo, Yusef,” Deon called out, loud enough for people nearby to hear. “Crazy about Nigel, right? Y’all was so close. Must be hard for you.”
The way he said “close” made my skin crawl. Like it was a joke. Like he was testing Yusef. Seeing if he’d crack.
Yusef didn’t flinch. Just looked at Deon with those flat, empty eyes that had been scaring me since this whole nightmare started.
“Yeah,” Yusef said. “It’s crazy.”
“You was probably the last person to see him alive, huh?” Tyler chimed in. “Since y’all was always together and everything.”
My heart stopped.
Was that an accusation? Did they know something?
“Nah,” Yusef said, his voice steady. “I was home that day. Didn’t see him.”
Tyler and Deon exchanged a look. That little smirk again.
“Right,” Tyler said. “Home. Doing what, playing piano?”
The other boys snickered.
Something shifted in Yusef’s expression. Just for a second. A flicker of something dark and satisfied that made my blood run cold.
“Something like that,” Yusef said.
Then he turned and walked away from them, leaving those boys standing there with their stupid smirks, not knowing how close they’d just come to… what? I didn’t even want to think about it.
I hurried after him, my mind spinning.
Had I just imagined that look on his face? That flash of… satisfaction? Like he was enjoying this somehow? Like knowing he’d gotten away with it—knowing those boys would never touch him again—gave him some kind of dark pleasure?
What was happening to my nephew?
What had we done?
We were almost to the door when Zoo appeared.
He materialized out of nowhere, stepping into our path like he’d been waiting for us. Up close, he was bigger than I remembered. Taller. His eyes were red-rimmed but hard, his jaw set in a way that said he wasn’t here to make small talk.
“Yusef.” His voice was low, rough. “Can I talk to you for a minute?”
Every cell in my body screamed danger.
“About what?” I asked, stepping slightly in front of my nephew. Protective. Probably too protective, but I couldn’t help it.
“Just want to ask him some questions.” Zoo’s eyes never left Yusef. “About Nigel. They was best friends, right? Maybe he knows something that could help.”
“He already talked to the police,” I said. “He told them everything he knows.”
“I ain’t the police.” Zoo’s voice had an edge now. “I’m his father. And I’m trying to find out who killed my son. That a problem?”
Yes. Yes, it was a massive problem. It was the biggest problem in the entire world.
But what was I supposed to say? No, you can’t talk to him because he’s the one who did it?
Before I could respond, Prime was there. Moving between Zoo and Yusef like a wall of muscle and quiet menace.
“Whatever you want to ask him, you can ask in front of us,” Prime said. His voice was calm, but there was steel underneath.
Zoo’s eyes snapped to Prime. And then something shifted in his expression. Recognition dawning like a slow sunrise.
“Hold up.” Zoo’s head tilted. “I know you. You’re… shit, you’re Prentice, right? Prentice Banks?”
Prime’s face stayed neutral. “Yeah.”
“Damn.” Zoo let out a disbelieving laugh. “Prentice Banks. We went to middle school together. MLK Middle. You remember me? Shawn? Shawn Mitchell?”
Prime’s expression didn’t change. “Vaguely.”
“Vaguely?” Zoo laughed again, but there was an edge to it. Disbelief, maybe. Or resentment. “Nah, man, this is crazy. Look at you. You used to be…” He gestured vaguely, and I knew what he wasn’t saying. Fat. Stuttering. A target.
“Things change,” Prime said flatly.
“Yeah. Yeah, they do.” Zoo was looking at Prime differently now. Sizing him up. Recalculating. “Heard you went away for a while. Came back different.”
“Like I said. Things change.”
The tension between them was thick enough to cut. Two men who’d known each other as boys, now standing on opposite sides of something neither of them fully understood.
Zoo shook his head slowly, then turned his attention back to Yusef.
“Look, lil man. I just want to know if Nigel had any beef with anybody. Any problems. Y’all was close. He would’ve told you if somebody was after him, right?”
I couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t move. Just stood there, frozen, watching my nephew’s face for any sign that he was about to crack.
Yusef looked Zoo dead in the eyes.
“No, sir,” he said. “Nigel never mentioned anything like that. We just played video games and stuff. I don’t know who would want to hurt him.”
The lie came out smooth. Natural. Like he’d been practicing it in his head for days.
Which, I realized, he probably had.
Zoo stared at him for a long moment. Searching. Probing. Looking for cracks in the facade.
Yusef didn’t blink.
Finally, Zoo nodded. “Aight. If you think of anything—anything at all—you let me know. Your mama got Brandi’s number, right?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Good.” Zoo’s eyes flicked to me, then to Prime, then back to Yusef. “I’ll be in touch.”
The words hung in the air like a threat. Because that’s exactly what they were.
Zoo stepped aside, giving us room to pass, but his eyes never left Yusef. Tracking him. Studying him. Like he was filing away every detail for later.
“Let’s go,” Prime said quietly, his hand on Yusef’s shoulder, guiding him toward the door.
We walked out of that church as fast as we could without running.
Brandi caught me at the bottom of the steps.
“Z! Wait up!”
I turned, pasting what I hoped was a sympathetic smile on my face. “Hey, girl. It was a beautiful service. Nigel would’ve been pleased with it.”
Brandi’s eyes were swollen, her makeup long gone, but there was something fierce underneath the grief. Something determined.
“Thank you for coming. For bringing Yusef.” She glanced over at where Prime and Yusef were standing by the car. “I know this is hard on him too.”
“He’s doing okay,” I lied. “Taking it one day at a time.”
“Yeah.” Brandi wiped at her eyes with a crumpled tissue. “That’s all we can do, right? One day at a time.”
She was quiet for a moment, and I thought maybe she’d let me go. Let us escape from this nightmare and drive far, far away.
But then she grabbed my arm. Squeezed it.
“We’re gonna find him, Z. Whoever did this to my baby. We’re gonna find him.”
My heart stuttered. “The police are—”
“Fuck the police.” Her voice was hard now. Angry. “They ain’t doing shit. But Zoo…” She glanced back toward the church, where Zoo was standing in the doorway, still watching us. “Zoo’s gonna handle it. He’s got connections with the Brick City Crew. You know them?”
I shook my head, even though the name made my stomach drop.
“They don’t play,” Brandi continued. “When they find out who did this, it’s over for them. Zoo’s gonna make sure whoever killed my son pays for it.”
I felt like I was going to throw up.
“That’s…” I swallowed hard. “That’s good, Brandi. I hope you get justice. I really do.”
“We will.” She hugged me, tight and fierce. “Take care of yourself, Z. And take care of that baby.”
“I will.”
I pulled away and walked toward the car on legs that felt like jelly.
The walls were closing in from every direction.
We drove in silence for ten minutes before anyone spoke.
We were all silent before Prime spoke up. “After winter break, Yusef goes to a different school.”
“Okay,” I said quietly. “Yeah. That makes sense. I’ve been wanting that for him anyway.”
“Good.” Prime reached over and took my hand. “We’re gonna get through this. All of us. Together.”
I wanted to believe him. I really did.
But as we pulled away from Greater Hope Baptist Church, I glanced in the side mirror and felt my blood turn to ice.
Zoo was standing at the curb, watching our car leave. Not moving. Not talking to anyone. Just standing there with his hands in his pockets, eyes locked on us like he was memorizing our license plate.
Like he was memorizing Yusef’s face through the back window.
I’ll be in touch.
The words echoed in my head, cold and final.
This wasn’t over. Not even close.