good job. My girl, Angel, she got snatched off the street and roughed up, and when they sent her back to me, she was broken. We’ve both been through hell, but at least we have each other. I’m pretty sure I would’ve died without her to give me a reason to go on living.”
“Same for me, baby,” she said softly. “Hi, everyone, I’m Angel, and like Roberto said, when I was kidnapped and raped, I thought my life was over. I’ve found out since that I can still feel joy and excitement and pleasure. It’s just taken me a while. I’m glad to be here. Thank you, Sam, for organizing this.”
“I’m Lenore, and my son, Calvin, was shot and killed fifteen years ago when he was fifteen. I’ve now lived without him longer than I had him with me. The case remains unsolved, which is part of what keeps my grief so present. That we’ve never been able to get justice for him is something I live with every day.” She glanced at Sam. “I’m hoping a renewed interest in the case will lead to some answers.”
Sam gave her a quick nod, hoping she could keep that silent promise.
“I’m Trey. My daughter, Vanessa, was killed in one of the recent drive-by shootings.”
He was one of the people who’d inspired Sam to want to start the group. She’d never forget responding to the scene of Vanessa’s murder or his unbearable heartache.
“She was six and so sweet and…” Trey looked down, took a breath and released it slowly. “I was a single dad, and she was my whole life. I don’t know what to do without her. People keep telling me it’ll get better in time, but I don’t think it will. When Lieutenant Holland invited me to come to this meeting, I hoped maybe it would help to be around other people who’ve been through the same thing I have.”
“We’re glad to have you here, Trey,” Sam said.
He nodded, his lips tight and his handsome face twisted with torment.
“My name is Joe, and my beautiful wife, Melanie, was also killed in the drive-by shootings. She was expecting our first child, so I lost them both. Mel never did anything to deserve what happened to her, and I’ve been dealing with a lot of anger since she was killed. Some days, I fear it’s going to boil over and take me under, but I keep pushing through because that’s what she’d want me to do. But it’s the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do.”
The woman next to him took hold of his hand. “I understand that feeling, Joe. I’m Danita, and my son, Jamal, was also killed in the drive-by shootings. He’d been to see a movie about space at the Air and Space Museum with two of his friends and was shot for no good reason on the walk home. I know all about unreasonable anger and the kind of grief that makes you wonder how you can go on living. I’ve been lucky to have my daughters to help me through it, but every day since we lost Jamal has been a struggle.” She glanced toward Lenore. “My son was also fifteen. Like you, I thought I was almost home free. He was a good boy who almost always did the right thing. I was pretty sure he was going to grow up to be a good man.”
“He would have,” Sam said. “Everyone we talked to raved about what a fine young man he was.”
“Thank you,” Danita said, wiping away tears. “That means a lot.”
“I’m Tommy, an officer with the MPD. My partner was killed three feet from me in January, after I let him take the lead for the first time because he was bugging me. We were on a stakeout in the cold. We were tired and hungry and annoyed. I told him if he’d stop being a pain in the ass, he could take the lead with questioning our suspect when he finally showed up. Arnold was like a happy little kid, running through it with me, how he’d approach the guy, what he’d say. I’ve relived that last hour with him so many times. We got out of the car, and he was dead less than a minute later. I’ve had a really hard time accepting that he took a bullet that should’ve been mine, but through lots of therapy, I’ve come to understand it was his time, not mine, even if I’ll always be