I didn’t want to say anything before because whatever I said would just add gasoline to the fire. I don’t have it in me to take the high road. I want to burn down the police station and every damn thing near it. How do I find the strength to battle that rage and make something good out of it? How can I tell them to tame their anger when I can’t tame mine?

I need you, Mom. I need your strength. And I’m going to get it.

I promised my uncle that I wouldn’t leave the house tonight, but I have to. I have to go find the last key. It will tell me how to get my mom’s strength and courage.

I text my friends and tell them to meet me at Devonte’s restaurant. His family, sensing what was coming, boarded up the place, but he has the key, so we should be okay. He tries to tell me how sorry he is about the grand jury decision; I can’t take any of that in right now. I stick the last set of clues in my back pocket, put the box in my backpack, and head for the door. I’m hoping my uncle will be too distracted to note that I am gone. I have a good shot at that, as they are all in the kitchen arguing.

Uncle Ty calls out to me just as my hand makes contact with the door. “Where you going?” he asks. Nate enters the hallway just behind him.

“I need to find out what my mother left me. It’s important,” I reply.

“Ayo, this isn’t a game!” Uncle Ty shouts.

“I know! You think I don’t see what’s happening? Uncle Ty, people are getting hurt, and if this keeps going . . . I can’t just stay here and watch everyone fight for our family but me. I want to speak out. I want to add my voice to this. But to do that, I need to find the last key my mom left me.”

“Then I will come with you.”

“No, I have to do this with my friends. We started the hunt together, and we need to finish together,” I reply.

“You’re not going out there. It’s too dangerous,” he says.

“Uncle Ty, has it ever been safe for us?”

He sighs, deflated. Hollow.

I turn to Nate. “Tell the media and the board to meet me in front of the police station. I’ll be there soon. I’ll address the crowd—I promise. But there’s something I have to do first.”

A light sparks in Nate’s eyes. “Anything to get you out in front,” he says as he takes my hand, ready to guide me through the crowd.

My uncle softly calls after me, “Ayo . . .”

I turn back to face him. The concern etched in his eyes makes my heart swell.

The past five weeks has aged him, and the grand jury decision all but broke him. I inhale deeply, preparing for him to argue with me. But instead . . .