“We picked them up yesterday.” The officer’s voice echoed in his head. So that was why his dad, John, and Gary hadn’t called. What had WE done to them? If they were still alive, where were they? Where were the officers taking his mom and grandma? He had to find out.
He pushed himself up with his arms and felt his shirt sticking to his back. Reaching around, he touched his back. His fingers were wet and sticky with blood. What kind of a weapon could inflict such a wound? His whole being trembled in rage for what they had done to his family, his home, to King, to other Christians, and to those who refused to kneel to Ouima.
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