of what Tamika did, you have to understand the lie she told me months before she disappeared.
It was a Saturday in late spring. I was in my garden when Tamika’s car screeched into the driveway. She practically fell out of the driver’s seat, face pale and streaked with tears.
“It’s Jamal!” she choked out between gasps. “Oh God, Lakesha, it’s Jamal.”