Back inside, I go through Jamal’s things one more time. Except this time, it’s to get supplies and clothes for Jamal. Make it easy if he ever decides to come home quick. On my way back downstairs, the television catches my attention when BREAKING NEWS flashes at the bottom of The Wendy Williams Show. Susan Touric comes on the screen. I step closer to study her reaction. She’ll influence the media coverage of Angela, and if she does, Jamal could feel safe enough to come home and tell his story.

We interrupt this program to share a breaking news development in the case of our production assistant, eighteen-year-old Angela Herron, who was murdered last night. The Galveston County sheriff’s office has identified a suspect.

Angela’s homecoming photo flashes on the screen. She’s smiling bright, her hair in those rolling blond waves. They do a close-up on her face, angelic precision, the way they highlight the photo with doctored light around her face.

I’m jarred into reality when Jamal’s picture flashes on the screen. The word suspect stamped under his name. They didn’t use his footage from her show last week. Not his homecoming picture, a school photo, or a picture from the countless track meets and fund-raising banquet dinners.

Instead, they use a photo of Jamal with a red cup in his hand, middle finger up, a big grin on his face. I remember it from his Instagram. They have it cropped close around him, but if you saw the rest of the photo, you’d see the entire track team. A unity shot of everyone flipping off Coach Curry for scheduling an early-morning run the day after homecoming.

They’ve got Jamal painted like a thug, standing between two other Black team members with blurred-out headshots, Dean and the other white teammates conveniently cropped out of the original photo. All Jamal was doing was being a teenager at a party, no harm. He was the designated driver that night, but the red cup sticks out. Now it don’t matter he was hydrating with water before the early-morning run.

My breath catches when Angela’s photo lines up next to Jamal’s. The words suspect, on the run, last seen flash in front of me. I’m sick, wanting to heave. They can’t set him up like this. We can’t go through this again.

My phone pings and I get a text from Tasha.

You see this! The news is a mess. Jamal had no business with Angela. This is stupid.

I know. I’m watching Susan Touric.

Turn it off, it’s trash!!

I can’t help it. I need to know more.

You going to school?

No. Heading to the police station with Mama. Let me know if you hear anything at school.

I’m on it…Jamal still gone?

Yip…See if you can corner Quincy. He was real short with me on the phone.