PROLOGUE

The house was a horrific crime scene. Body upon body was slaughtered in what appeared to be a drug related massacre. The room was blanketed with just fewer than twenty innocent lives that were snuffed out in such a heinous act. Police radioed in for a half-dozen coroner vans, as it appeared there was no proof of life. One detective had to compose himself as he happened upon the body of the first slain child.

The next-door neighbor had reported the crime. He said he had seen a few individuals looking like stick-up kids in dark clothing lurking around the building, like they were up to no good. He said he knew someone was going to get robbed when he saw the same guys rough-handling the boyfriend, Hugo, and pushing their way inside the apartment.

“What time was that?” the detective asked.

“Yo, that was like”—He looked over his shoulder to see if anyone saw him snitching to the police—“It was like, five o’ clock.”

“Excuse me, did you say five?”

“Yeah, I had just finished watchin’ Judge Judy and was on my way to my girl’s crib.”

“But the nine-one-one call didn’t come through until six thirty.”

The neighbor looked at the detective like, And?

“You mean you saw a robbery in progress that led to seventeen homicides, and you waited over an hour to call for help?” The detective didn’t allow the witness to answer, hitting him with a two-piece—a hard left to his jaw and a quick right to the abdomen—before his partner pulled him off.

Everyone’s nerves were frayed. Seeing so many dead, and the manner in which they met their fate, had the most hardened detective on high alert.

“I’ma sue ya ass!” the witness screamed, holding his chin. “The city’s gonna pay up. You fucked up now! Yeah, you fucked up now! I’ma have your badge, bitch!”

“Get the fuck outta here!” another detective yelled, backing him down.

It was a tense situation going on for all involved. The building was crawling with police officers, detectives, and naturally the captain showed up on the scene because this case was that huge. Channels 7 and 4, and Fox news cameras were all parked outside to get an exclusive from friends, neighbors, and any bystander willing to give any detail about the incident.

Out of all the elderly, college students, or working-class residents, the news stations couldn’t find one individual without missing teeth, a headscarf wrapped around unruly hair, or who was fluent in anything but ebonics, making the information hard to follow.

As the coroners began placing bodies in the body bags to place on the gurneys for autopsies, a loud yelp came from one of the workers. She had rolled one of the bodies into the body bag, and as she was zipping it up, the corpse inhaled deeply, startling her.

“We’ve got a sign of life!” she called out. “Get an ambulance out here now!”

...

It felt like an explosion went off in her head. It was like someone had turned on the lights, which was a switch to full-blown pain. Every part of her body was in agony as a team of doctors and nurses poked and prodded.

A soft-spoken head surgeon shined a flashlight in her eyes, testing her reflexes. “Do you know your name?”

She took several seconds before she responded. “Cristal . . . my name . . . it’s Cristal.”