“My name is Yvonne Howington. H-O-W-I-N-G-T-O-N. You got that? What this is in reference to is how my baby girl, Jazmin Mayes, ended up dead and stuffed in a laundry cart at the Gulf Vista Resort. This is in reference to how, thanks to Brice Campbell, ain’t nobody ever been arrested for killing my baby girl. Been nearly two years now. It’s in reference to how he messed up and let those hotel people get away with paying me hardly anything. That’s what this is in reference to.”

She looked down at the child and gently removed her hand from her hair. “Stop that fiddling now, Aliyah. You gonna mess up that pretty hairdo.”

Yvonne Howington gestured at the child. “Aliyah, she’s got asthma. Needs two different inhalers and two different kinds of pills. You know what one of those inhalers costs? A hundred and fifty dollars. And if she gets a cold, or an ear infection, which she does all the time, that’s another visit to the emergency room, and antibiotics and I don’t know what all.”

“Oh, wow,” Drue said, for lack of anything better to say. “That’s terrible.”

Aliyah looked up and gave her a shy smile. “Hello.” When she stepped from behind the woman whom Drue presumed was her grandmother, Drue noticed she had what looked like an iPad with a cover plastered in childish stickers.

“Hi,” Drue said. “I wish I had an iPad like yours. What do you like to do on yours?”

“I like to read, and sometimes I draw or watch videos.” Aliyah ducked her head and looked away.

“Her mama bought her that for Christmas, but I can’t afford to let her download all those books and movies she wants. This girl reads all the time,” Yvonne said. “She likes those YouTube videos too. But she needs new glasses. How I’m gonna pay for glasses and medicine and all of that? With a hundred thirty-five thousand dollars but it’s in a trust for her ’til she turns eighteen? Money I can’t touch, even though I’m raising her? How I’m gonna keep my job and look after her and see she keeps out of trouble in that bad neighborhood we live in? Tell me that.”

“I … I don’t know,” Drue said. She picked up her pen again. “Honest. Mr. Campbell really is in court today. But I can take down your name and let him know you’d like to see him and I’m sure his assistant can get you an appointment—”

“Listen to me!” the woman thundered. “Me and Aliyah, we are staying right here in this office until that man comes out here and does right by me. A hundred and fifty thousand dollars? Minus Brice Campbell’s lawyer fees? That’s what those hotel people say my baby girl’s life was worth? That’s a joke! But ain’t nobody laughing.”