Chapter 13 Zainab
ZAINAB
I circled my hand around my belly, feeling where babygirl was kicking me. My little princess was active and letting me know she hated being in jail.
“I know, sweetie. Me too,” I responded to her.
The Los Angeles County jail was just as dank and depressing as the DC jail, not that I expected anything better.
The flight had been long as hell. Uncomfortable. My ankles were swollen from the shackles, my wrists raw from the cuffs. Seven months pregnant and they still treated me like I was about to make a run for it. Like my big ass was gonna waddle through TSA and disappear into the sunset.
Booking took forever. Fingerprints. Photos.
Strip search. Some female CO with a nasty attitude told me to squat and cough while she looked at me like I was the scum of the earth.
I wanted to tell her my fiancé and his family owned half of DC.
That I ran a whole bakery. That I was somebody before I ended up in this hellhole.
But in here? I was nobody. Just another number. Another Black girl in the system.
They walked me to my cell around midnight. The CO—a thick white woman with a blonde ponytail pulled way too tight—shoved me forward when I didn’t move fast enough.
“Let’s go, baby mama. I ain’t got all night.”
I wanted to turn around and ask her if she’d like to carry a whole human being while wearing shackles. But I bit my tongue. Kept walking. Wasn’t worth it.
The cell was small as hell. Two bunks. A toilet in the corner with no privacy. A tiny window that didn’t open. The bottom bunk was already taken—a Latina chick with her hair slicked back, tattoos all up her neck and arms. She looked up when I walked in.
“Fresh meat,” the CO announced like she was dropping off a package. “Play nice, ladies.”
The door slammed shut.
I stood there awkwardly, not sure what to do. The woman on the bottom bunk gave me a once-over. Her eyes stopped at my belly.
“Damn, mami. How far along?”
“Seven months.”
She let out a low whistle. “And they got you locked up like this? That’s some bullshit.”
“Girl, tell me about it.”
She sat up and swung her legs over the side. Extended her hand with a firm grip.
“I’m LaLa.”
“Zainab.”
“Zainab.” She said it slow, like she was trying it on. “That’s pretty. You Arab?”
“No but my family is Muslim.”
“Cool, cool. I’m from East LA. Born and raised. Third generation.” She nodded up at the top bunk. “That’s you. Unless you wanna switch? I know climbing ain’t easy when you got a whole belly.”
I swear I almost started crying right there. After the strip search, the shackles, that CO calling me “pregnant” like it was a dirty word—this random chick showing me basic human decency hit different.
“Thank you,” I said. “For real.”
“It’s nothing.” She started moving her stuff around. “What they got you in here for? If you don’t mind me asking.”
“Murder.”
LaLa’s eyebrows damn near flew off her face. “Murder?”
“I didn’t do it. Long story.”
“Ain’t it always.” She finished moving her stuff and nodded toward the bottom bunk. “It’s all yours.”
“Thank you. Seriously.”
“It’s nothing. I remember being new in here. Shit’s overwhelming.”
I sat down on the thin-ass mattress. The sheets felt like sandpaper. But it beat standing.
“What about you?” I asked. “What you in for?”
“Shit, I’ve done a lot.” She laughed a little.
“Robbed a few people. Sold drugs back in the day. But what got me popped? Defending some kids from ICE.” She shook her head.
“These agents rolled up on my block trying to snatch up this family—mama and her three kids. I wasn’t having it. Things got physical.”
“Damn.”““Yeah. They wanted to throw me in a detention center so bad. But I was born here. Right here in LA. Third generation. So they couldn’t touch me like that.” She shrugged. “So now I’m in here waiting on my bail hearing.”
“That’s fucked up.”
“It is what it is. I got a decent lawyer. Should be out in a few months, God willing.” She looked at me with real curiosity. “What about you? You got people fighting for you on the outside?”
I thought about Prime. Camille. My whole family back home.
“Yeah,” I said. “I got somebody.”
“Good. That’s what matters in here. Don’t let this place break you, mami.”
I nodded and laid my back against the wall as my legs stretched out in front of me in the bunk, staring up at the bottom of the mattress above me.
Don’t let this place break me.
I was trying. Lord knows I was trying.
Next morning, a CO came to get me for a legal visit.
Different one this time. Tall Black dude with a shaved head and eyes that looked like they’d seen too much and stopped caring a long time ago. He cuffed me way too rough, yanking my arms back like I was resisting. I glanced at his badge so I could remember his name. Officer Cooper.
“Easy,” I said through my teeth. “I’m pregnant.”
“Okay—and? I ain’t ya baby daddy. Let’s go.”
He gripped my arm too tight the whole walk there. Every time I slowed down even a little, he pushed me forward. By the time we got to the visitation room, I was blinking back tears.
But I refused to cry in front of these people. They didn’t deserve my tears.
Camille was already there waiting. She looked like a whole million dollars—designer blazer, silk blouse, with a Celine bag. Her hair was done, makeup on point. She looked wildly out of place in this dusty-ass room.
“Zainab.” She stood up when she saw me, concern all over her face. “How you holding up?”
“I’m alive.”
The CO finally took off the cuffs and pushed me toward the chair. “Thirty minutes.”
Then he bounced. Thank God.
I sat down across from Camille, rubbing my sore wrists.
“They treating you okay?” she asked, watching my hands.
“They treating me like what I am to them. An inmate.”
Her jaw got tight. “I’ll make some calls. Pregnant inmates are supposed to have certain accommodations. This is ridiculous.”
“I appreciate you.”
She pulled out her legal pad, switching into lawyer mode. “Okay. Let’s go over that night again. I need every detail you can remember.”
I took a deep breath. Closed my eyes.
That night. The night that changed everything.
“I came home late that night,” I started, keeping my voice steady. “I’d been working at a club. When I got to the apartment, the door was open. And my sister was on the floor. Shot.”
I walked her through the version I’d been telling for years. The version that kept me safe. That I came home, found her, panicked. That I didn’t see who did it. That I had no idea why anyone would want to hurt her.
Everything except the truth.
That I’d witnessed a murder hours before. That the killer had tracked me down. That he’d come to my apartment looking for ME, but found Zahara instead. Shot her in the face because we were identical twins and he didn’t know the difference.
And I knew exactly who he was.
His face had been living rent-free in my nightmares for five years. Square jaw. Dead eyes. The way he’d looked at me that night at the club before he pulled the trigger on that other man. Like killing was nothing to him. Like it was just another Tuesday.
Thad.
I couldn’t tell Camille about him. Not yet. I had no evidence. No proof. Just my word against a Banks. And if I breathed his name to Prime? Thad would be dead before I could blink.
And nah. That wasn’t how this was gonna go.
I wanted to be the one to end him. I wanted to look into his eyes and make sure he knew exactly why he was dying. I wanted him to see Zahara’s face—MY face—right before he took his last breath.
That moment belonged to me. I’d earned it.
“Zainab?” Camille’s voice snapped me back. “You okay? You zoned out for a second.”
“Yeah. Sorry. Just… reliving it.”
She nodded, her eyes soft. “I know this is hard. But we’re gonna get through this together.”
“What’s the situation with bail?”
“Filing the motion this week. You’ve got a lot in your favor—no prior record, seven months pregnant, and frankly, the evidence against you is weak.
The DA is pushing hard, but I’ve handled worse.
” She leaned forward. “The case they’re trying to build doesn’t hold up.
You didn’t kill your sister, Zainab. And I’m going to prove it. ”
“And if I get bail?”
“Then you come home—well, home for now—and we build your defense. Which brings me to…” She paused with a small smile. “Prime wanted me to tell you something.”
My heart skipped. “What?”
“He’s here. In LA. Flew out yesterday with Yusef.”
“He’s HERE?”
“Rented a house up in the hills. For you. For when you get out.” Her smile grew. “That man has been blowing up my phone every few hours asking for updates. I’ve never seen anyone so pressed.”
I laughed, but it came out shaky. Watery. “That’s so him.”
“He wanted to come today, but they’re not allowing visitors until tomorrow. So he told me to tell you…” She glanced at her notes. “‘Tell her Daddy’s here. Tell her to hold on. Tell her I’m not going anywhere.’”
The tears fell then. I couldn’t help it.
He was here. Thousands of miles from home. Waiting for me.
“Can you tell him something for me?” I asked, wiping my face.
“Of course.”
“Tell him I love him. And tell him to kiss my baby for me.”
Camille tilted her head. “Yusef?”
“Both of them. The one in my belly, too.”
She reached across the table and squeezed my hand. “We’re gonna bring you home, Zainab. I promise you that.”
I wanted to believe her. I really did.
The CO came back way too soon. Cuffed me up again. Walked me back to my cell with that same rough energy.
But this time, I held my head up.
Prime was here. Bail was coming. My baby girl was healthy and strong.
I could do this.
LaLa was on her bunk when I got back, flipping through an old magazine.
“How’d it go?” she asked, looking up.
“Good. Lawyer thinks I got a real shot at bail.”
“Ayy, that’s what I’m talking about!” She grinned big. “See? Told you. Don’t let this place steal your hope.”
I sat down on my bunk with a heavy exhale. My feet were throbbing. The baby was doing gymnastics on my bladder. But for the first time since I landed in LA, I felt like maybe things would be okay.
“Your man coming tomorrow?” LaLa asked.
“Yeah.”
“I can tell you miss him bad.”
“That obvious?”
“Girl, you got that look. Like you’re counting down the seconds.” She put down the magazine. “What’s he like?”
How do you even describe Prime?
“He’s… everything,” I said finally. “He’s the type of man who would tear down the whole world if somebody hurt me.
But he’s also the type to talk to our baby every night through my belly.
To take in my nephew when he had nobody else.
To drop everything and fly across the country just to be close to me even when he can’t even touch me yet. ”
LaLa shook her head slowly. “That’s real love right there, mami. That’s that once-in-a-lifetime shit.”
“It is.”
“Hold onto that. Tight. Men like that are rare.”
“Trust me, I know.”
She reached under her mattress and pulled out a honey bun. Tossed it to me.
“Here. For the baby. I know the food in here is garbage.”
I caught it, surprised. “LaLa, you don’t gotta—”
“I want to. You eating for two. That little girl needs something sweet.”
I looked down at the honey bun, then back at her. This woman I just met. Sharing what little she had.
“Thank you,” I said. “For real. For everything.”
“That’s how we do in here. We look out for each other. Especially us.” She gestured between us. “We gotta stick together. The real enemy is those CO’s.”
I smiled and opened the honey bun. It was stale as hell but I didn’t care. It was the best thing I’d tasted since I got here.
That night, I laid in the dark with my hand pressed against my belly.
She was moving around in there. Kicking. Restless. Active as hell. Just like her daddy.
“He’s here, baby girl,” I whispered. “Right here in LA. Waiting on us. Just hold on a little longer. We’re almost there.”
I closed my eyes and tried to picture Prime’s face. His hands. The way his voice dropped low when it was just us. The way he made me feel safe even when everything around us was falling apart.
Bail was coming. My lawyer was fighting. My man was waiting.
But underneath all that hope, there was something else. Something darker. Something I couldn’t let go of.
Thad.
He was out there right now. Walking around free. Probably smiling. Probably laughing. Breathing freely like he had any right to exist.
He had no idea what was coming for him.
I’d carried his face in my memory for five years. Five years of not knowing his name. Five years of waking up in cold sweats, seeing him run out that door while my sister bled out on the floor.
Now I knew exactly who he was. Prime’s cousin. A Banks. Comfortable. Protected.
But not for long.
I was gonna get out of here. Beat this case. Hold my daughter. Marry my man.
And then? Then I was gonna find Thad.
And I was gonna make sure he remembered my sister’s name right before I sent him to meet her.