BooksBarbecue
Back No Going Back: a Novel Save as PDF
Chapters (84)
  1. Cover
  2. Dedication
  3. Part 1
  4. 1
  5. 2
  6. 3
  7. 4
  8. 5
  9. 6
  10. 7
  11. 8
  12. 9
  13. 10
  14. 11
  15. 12
  16. 13
  17. 14
  18. Part 2
  19. 15
  20. 16
  21. 17
  22. 18
  23. 19
  24. 20
  25. 21
  26. 22
  27. 23
  28. 24
  29. 25
  30. 26
  31. 27
  32. 28
  33. 29
  34. 30
  35. 31
  36. 32
  37. Part 3
  38. 33
  39. 34
  40. 35
  41. 36
  42. 37
  43. 38
  44. 39
  45. 40
  46. 41
  47. 42
  48. Part 4
  49. 43
  50. 44
  51. 45
  52. 46
  53. 47
  54. 48
  55. 49
  56. 50
  57. 51
  58. 52
  59. Part 5
  60. 53
  61. 54
  62. 55
  63. 56
  64. 57
  65. 58
  66. Part 6
  67. 59
  68. 60
  69. 61
  70. 62
  71. 63
  72. 64
  73. 65
  74. 66
  75. 67
  76. 68
  77. 69
  78. 70
  79. 71
  80. 72
  81. Acknowledgments
  82. About the Author
  83. Also by Sheena Kamal
  84. About the Publisher

I follow the drummer, looking for my sister, hoping to catch a glimpse. I’d first moved out to the West Coast after Lorelei had gotten accepted into university here, just to be closer to her. She was so full of conviction, my younger sister. I was proud of her. Despite being put in care after our father died, she had come out of it full of confidence and a belief in her ability to change the world. My aging out of foster care pushed me right into the army. They took one good long look at me and sent me packing, too. Confidence and conviction have eluded me at every turn, but it seems right that Lorelei should have it.

I’ve never known how to speak to her, but I moved here anyway, to be near her, waiting for a phone call that never came. She’s a righteous bitch on most days, and I suppose I’m waiting around for the moment she’s not. Maybe today is the day. I live in hope.

The drums pull me deeper into the crowd, but I lose sight of the young drummer. I imagine my sister’s face everywhere and allow myself to be swept into a march just for the desire to see her again. Her feelings toward me have never changed mine toward her. I keep away, but that doesn’t mean I don’t miss the sight of her, as complicated as our relationship is.

It’s during this searching that I sense someone’s attention on me. A man in a dark green jacket with his hood pulled forward is watching me. Every time I catch a glimpse of him, he disappears. Now the drumbeat speeds up, but I’m not sure if it’s in my head. The crowd pulls me too close, and someone is shouting on a megaphone up ahead.

There’s a call and response, no less musical than the blues.

“The system isn’t broken!” shouts the woman—man? Does it matter?—on the megaphone.

The crowd breathes in, almost collectively.

“It was built this way!” they cry back, on the exhalation.

Someone jostles me, and I flinch away. There is a rage here, building. The feeling sweeps over me. I’m not angry, but I feel a peculiar fear that has to do with being surrounded by strangers. I don’t want to see my sister anymore. I only want to leave.

“The system isn’t broken—”

The crowd is moving, and I’m being sucked toward the center, where the megaphone is. There’s an alley opening to my right that I head for now.

“It was built this way!”