“I’m looking for Jamal. I’m worried. The whole family is.”

Quincy’s face gets serious. He sits up, and his broad shoulders stand out as he pulls himself up from slouching on the couch, dragging his left leg in so it’s even with his right. He’s always kept his athletic, muscular build, training and working out, even though he never had a chance to compete much in sports.

“I know you’ve heard from him.” I don’t know if it’s true, but I’m betting something is up, since he didn’t want to answer the door.

I reach for Quincy’s hand. It’s rough but soft at the same time.

“I’d tell you if I could,” he says.

I drop his hand.

“Damn, T. Why you gotta be so disappointed in me? That shit kills me. I promised your bro I wouldn’t get you caught up. You feel me?”

“You admit you’ve seen him.” I flick my hand at his leg. “C’mon, where is he? Is he safe?”

“Slow down. I saw him yesterday. He needed to get cleaned up and clear his head, pick up a few supplies. Ma spotted Jamal hiding out in my room after the police came by, and she flipped her lid. She covered for him, since they weren’t searching the house, but made me promise not to see him again or she’d tell Beverly.”

“What do you know about that night, and where is he?” My voice rises in excitement. I should’ve come here Friday. Tasha should’ve sent me a text to let me know Quincy was out yesterday, not waited until today to say something.

“This ain’t CNN, Don Lemon.”

“Quincy.” I play-punch his arm. “This is my brother.”

“Damn. He’s safe. I mean, I don’t know exactly, but he ain’t in jail. Shit.” Quincy pauses. “That’s all I can say. You know I got a soft spot for you, but you gotta trust your brother. I can’t get in the middle of this.” Quincy reaches for my arm but then pulls his hand back. “He’s already gonna kick my ass for talking to you.”

“You promised me you’d always look out for me.”