Friend or Foe. Imani Black

      “What’s up, Simp?” one of the officers said, his tone sorrowful.

      Brice stepped out onto the stoop to speak to them. He didn’t want to upset his mother any further, especially if it was bad news.

      “What did they find out?” Brice asked, cutting to the chase.

      “Man, her trail ran cold. She hasn’t been to school in a couple of days. Some girl at the school said a guy in a big fancy car came to pick her up on a few occasions, but she couldn’t remember the type of car or any other pertinent details,” the cop explained to Brice.

      Brice reacted like a bomb had exploded in his head. He swayed on his feet and didn’t even realize it. He suddenly felt a rush of heat and got lightheaded. This was all his fault. He had become so consumed with his career that he hadn’t even realized his sister was in trouble.

      “So y’all going to keep searching, right?” Brice asked, blinking rapidly to clear the black spots from his vision.

      “Well, we will turn it over to midnights,” the other cop replied. “But we already searched the places you said she might be.”

      “I want the whole fucking city combed! I don’t care if it’s street by fucking street. This is my sister. She didn’t run away!” Brice exploded and pushed one of the officers in the chest. The veins in Brice’s neck throbbed.

      “Whoa, man. I will pass on the message,” the lead cop said with finality and then turned to leave.

      Brice punched at the air. His head pounded. He needed more information. The mystery of it all had been driving him crazy.

      What happened to make my sister change so suddenly? What is she trying to hide?

      Brice tried to compose himself before he went back inside the house to speak with his mother. He knew she would have a million questions, and he needed to find the answers fast.

      He stormed back into the house, rushing past his mother. He’d decided against milling around, talking to her any longer. Before his mother even had a chance to fire a single question, he stormed straight for Ciara’s bedroom.

      Banging open the door, Brice pillaged through his sister’s personal effects like a man possessed. He opened dresser drawers and threw clothes left and right. He went into the closet and pulled clothes off hangers and dumped the neat stack of sneaker boxes, looking for hidden clues. He even got on his knees and looked under her bed. When his efforts turned up empty, he pulled the comforter and sheets from the mattress and even examined the mattress itself to see if anything had been stashed inside or underneath.

      He began to tremble all over. His anxiety caused him to start coming apart mentally. But that didn’t stop him from continuing his search.

      Brice walked to Ciara’s desk and emptied out the drawers one by one. Papers sprinkled over his feet like large snowflakes. Brice pulled the last drawer out and spotted Ciara’s diary. He bent down and picked it up and noticed that it was locked.

      “Fuck this,” Brice grumbled, picking the lock with his pocket knife. With the sharp metal edge, he cut the small piece of leather that connected the lock with the book pages. He flipped through the pages of the diary and finally found a page that piqued his interest. Brice’s heart sank when he read the lines: He said he loved me. He said he is going to make me a star.

      Brice felt like someone had kicked him in the heart. He dropped the book and raced out of the room, straight past his mother.