About twenty minutes later, we pull up outside the complex. It’s made up of two jails in downtown LA: Men’s Central and Twin Towers, where David is. From the outside, the two towers look nondescript. They don’t look worthy of their names, of what’s inside them. Just a couple squat, ugly, medieval-looking gray buildings. The most startling thing about them is the lack of windows. You’d never guess that inside is a maze of hallways, thousands of inmates, and terrible living conditions. You’d never guess that inside is my brother’s killer. Even though I’ve been getting envelopes postmarked from this complex for almost a year, I never thought about it as a real place until the other night. I had no idea any of this was here.

After we park, we sit in the car for a minute, silent and still. Zach keeps trying to catch my eye, but I can’t bring myself to look at him. I’ve been pulling at the cuticle of my thumb over and over since we got off the freeway, and it’s starting to bleed. My hands are a mess of scratches and torn skin.

I’m pretty sure I’m going to scream.

This is the anger I’ve been running from this entire year, the shit that got me kicked out of school. The fury that leaked into my body that day is rising in me. How dare this freak bribe me into visiting him? He doesn’t deserve to have Jordan’s final words; they should be mine.

Zach whispers, “Are you okay?” and I know I can’t sit here any longer, wordlessly screaming into the black void of my own head.

I need to get a grip if I’m ever going to make it out of the car and into the jail. The minutes are ticking by, and we’re getting closer to my appointment time. I need to go.

I switch myself to autopilot, like I did in the days after the shooting, after they carried me out of that tiny closet that had become my home, past abandoned bags holding buzzing cell phones. That was the worst thing: the cell phones I could hear buzzing as news of the shooting spread and parents started calling.

“Yes. I’m okay.” I reach over and open the car door. Step out into the dark parking lot. Force a smile in Zach’s direction. Close the door. As I walk away, I hear him say that he’ll be here when I’m done, but I can’t turn back to acknowledge it. If I do, I’ll never make it out of this garage.

Everything is a blur once I leave him. My body takes over and my mind shuts down.