Date: Fri, 9 Jun 2023 22:32:29 -0500 From: Fang Saito Subject: Welcome to Avernus - Chapter 7 This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to any real people or places is purely coincidental. This story is the property of the author and is protected under copyright laws. The author retains all rights. No reproduction is allowed without the author's consent. Conversations and feedback are appreciated to Greyson B. via email at hokkaidohotel86it@gmail.com. I love hearing from readers. And thank you to Johnny Kape for the excellent editing assistance he has been providing me. He is a wonderful cheerleader. Thank you. If you enjoy this story, please support the Nifty archives today with a thoughtful donation by visiting https://donate.nifty.org/. Two stories that you should definitely check out, if you are enjoying this one: https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/highschool/tabula-rasa/ Saudade is providing a wonderfully Gothic story with a flavor reminiscent of The Lost Boys. https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/highschool/soulbound-anthology.html Weston is giving us a tale about romance and politics, in a Romeo and Juliet vibe of supernatural creatures trying to find love. Welcome to Avernus Chapter 7 A few hours later, I found myself kind of wandering around in a bit of a daze. I didn't know many areas of Avernus yet, so my feet kind of took me where I knew. The police station was right off the square, so that is where I went. The sun was just setting as I came out of the side street onto the square. I happened to run into Liam there, skating solo, and went over to say hey. He stopped when I approached, but seemed wary of me. "Hey man, nobody else around?" I asked. Hesitantly, Liam finally answered. "Yeah. It's just me. Why? Is that a problem?" "Naw, my guy," I said, hands up in surrender. "Everything okay? You seem like you've got a problem with me now or something." "Did you go hook up with the Ravens?" The question shook me for a second. "Well, I mean, I talked to a couple of people. They didn't call themselves that or anything." I saw that I was losing him as I ended weakly with, "So I think so?" Liam just kind of stared at me for a minute. Finally he just muttered, "Fuck you," before dropping his board, hopping on it, and taking off. I just stood there. This was the last fucking thing I needed. But considering the day I'd had so far, it fit right in. Well, nothing else seemed to be going my way, so I crossed the road and went to the only other place I really knew, Little Green Men. I didn't have anything with me, no miniatures, no supplies. Not even any money. And as dark settled in, I realized I also didn't have anything heavier than the hoodie I had been wearing all day in the house. Well, I wasn't going back to the house anytime soon, that I knew of. I had my phone on me. Mom could call me any time. She was still back at the police station. Honestly, I was supposed to be back there, too. For all I know, there were going to be squad cars out looking for me any time. I had seen they had some of the books for Hammers & Hordes on the wall, so I grabbed one of the rulebooks and took it over to one of the hobby tables. At this point I didn't care that I hadn't paid for it. I was only going to flip through it, not ruin it. But with my mood, I was daring someone to mess with me about it. I just wanted something to block out the stuff going through my brain. It was Friday night and not even six. There were probably twenty or more people in here, and the atmosphere felt like it was only picking up in business. "Whew," someone whistled a few minutes later. I looked up to see Garrett and one of the twins standing over me. "That looks painful," said the twin sympathetically, reaching out to gently touch my bruised eye. It hurt being touched, but their cool fingers felt soothing. I closed my eyes for a moment, enjoying the cool touch on my bruised face. When they pulled their hand away, I looked up, studying them, trying to see if I could detect anything that sorted out which twin I was looking at. Honestly, it was too soon. I gestured toward the chairs across the table from me, and they both sat down. "You're with Garrett here, so..." I gestured to the twin. "Wren?" He nodded. "What happened? Did you get in a fight?" The look on his face told me that he didn't really believe that. I went ahead and confirmed it. "Not exactly," I muttered. "Don't worry about it." Garrett jumped in. "You forget, we were there in the restaurant that first night. Your dad slapped you then. Was this more of the same?" I flushed at that and glared at him. Why did he have to call me out like that? It pissed me off. "So basically I can't take care of myself, is that what you fucking think? Fuck you!" The store volume dropped by half at my outburst, and more than one head turned in the direction of our corner. I glared at the pair of them, daring them to say anything further, while the room went back to whatever they were doing. "Nobody is saying you can't stand up for yourself," Wren said calmly. I backed down a bit. I wanted to back down. I didn't want Wren annoyed with me, but I also didn't want him thinking I was just some kid. I mean, he didn't seem that much older than me, but he was calm, collected. He was cool. I wanted Wren to like me. Flicking my eyes to the side, I smirked a bit inside. I kind of agreed with Erin. Garrett could go hang, for all I cared. Garrett chuckled at something, maybe some thought that crossed his mind. Then Wren reached over and tapped him on the arm. Something, some look, passed between them. Garrett nodded, looking a bit serious, and stood up. He walked across the store, back over around the counter. Wren and I both watched him go. "What's that all about?" I asked. "Don't worry about it. He'll be right back," said Wren. He had a look of genuine concern on his face when he asked, "Will you tell me what happened? Please?" I started explaining about the argument over going to get the school laptop, then about the movers not wanting me to help out, and that seeming to annoy my dad. Then I explained about him finding out my mother had given me some spending money, and how that is what I had been able to use to buy my miniatures the day before. "He didn't like you having money?" asked Wren in surprise. "He accused me of stealing it," I said. "He damn near tore my pants off trying to dig my wallet out of my pocket, grabbed the money out of it, and then slugged me for having spent some of it." "That's low. So what, you left the house?" "Not exactly," I started to say. But I got distracted when I saw Garrett coming back over. However, he wasn't alone. Now I was absolutely confused. Dominic Tsui strode before him. The look on his face and the way he carried himself seemed to emanate waves of energy, as players seemed to notice him and get out of his way. When he reached our corner, he walked around the end of the table to stand over me. I almost felt like I should stand to meet him, and then because of how aggressive he was entering my personal space, I did. My initial impression was correct. He was only an inch or so taller than me, so we were nearly eye to eye. His eyes were amazing. They were a deep black, to the point that there was no noticeable difference between his iris and pupil. His long, black hair was a mirror of Wren's pure white hair, both fine and straight, flowing down their backs. As the other times I had seen him, Mr. Tsui was wearing a shirt of some shiny material, this time a medium grey, under his black trenchcoat. Finally seeing up close, I saw that it was of a thinner material than I originally thought. I guessed silk, but it wasn't like I knew what silk looked like. For all I knew, his shirts could be silk. Speaking of Wren, I caught out of the corner of my eye that he had jumped to his feet as well. He almost seemed like he wanted to jump in between us. But I got the impression it was less about protecting me, and more about opposing Mr. Tsui, as that was where his attention was. Once I stood, Mr. Tsui took a step back. I started to ball up my fists, convinced I was about to be in the middle of some shit, when suddenly it was as if some switch had been flipped. Out of nowhere, both Mr. Tsui and Wren simultaneously adopted a relaxed, nonthreatening stance, both of their faces going softer. It was creepy, almost like there had been a frame jump in a film. Mr. Tsui studied my face. I couldn't tell if he was paying more attention to my facial expression or my black eye. "Where is your father?" My anger melted slightly to be blended with confusion. Then I got it. "I guess Garrett over there said something?" "He did," said Mr. Tsui in a calm, quiet voice. It was subtle, but I could hear a layer of controlled anger in his tone. "May I please have my answer." "He's in jail," I spat out. "My mom, too. They are trying to decide whether to charge her with child endangerment." I blushed a bit, at having to refer to myself as a child. "I see," he said quietly. "And does anyone know you are here?" "I got sick of being ignored and walked out of the police station," I said. Even now, I knew it sounded like a stupid thing to have done. However, I was in a mood to be stubborn. "I've got my phone on me. I'm not exactly hard to find." Mr. Tsui gave a subtle smile. "Indeed." He then took a further step back and seemed to waiver slightly, as if he were lightheaded. Then in an almost jovial tone, he said, "Well, it seems that I have work to do. Wren, please see to our young Jason. It would seem that company would do him good." And without waiting for a reply, he strode off across the store, walking out the front door. I slumped into my seat, completely confused, and more than a little scared. "Well fuck my life," I muttered. "You alright?" asked Garrett. Both of the other guys resumed their seats across from me. "I've only been here four goddamned days!" I exclaimed. Then I snapped at Garrett, "No, I'm not alright. That's my dad's fuckin' boss. We just moved here, and now that is absolutely gone." "I somehow doubt it's as bad as you think," said Wren. "Yeah," I scoffed. "I guess the Mafia doesn't care too much about domestic violence." I laughed a mirthless laugh. "Maybe they'll give him a raise." "You misunderstand your situation here," said Wren. "You yourself told us that Dom brought you here. That your father's job was an excuse to meet you. So don't you think he might want to protect his investment?" I slumped in my chair, absentmindedly picking at the corner of the rulebook on the table in front of me while I pondered this. The situation was confusing, and definitely screwed six ways from Sunday. What was this thing with Mr. Tsui? I went ahead and asked that one out loud. Even if they didn't answer the question, how they avoided it could still give me something. "What's his deal with me? Why is Mr. Tsui so interested in me?" The two teens looked at one another. After staring at each other for a moment, Garrett shrugged and looked back at me. Wren sighed and, looking me in the eye, said, "I wish we could say exactly. But it's obvious you have something he wants." "Yeah, right," I scoffed. "I've got nothing but me. And there's nothing about me that's different from anyone else." "When you figure out what he wants," asked Garrett, "Are you going to let him have it?" "Oh, I'll let him have it," I said, slamming my fist on the table in frustration. "Oh, I like you," Wren said with a smile. "You're a fighter." "You've seen the splendid role models I've had," I said. "I've had no choice but to be a fighter. Now I want a straight answer about something. What exactly are the Ravens? My friend Liam just about went nuts when he found out I had even talked to you." Wren's face fell. "Would that be Liam Anderson?" When I shrugged, he elaborated. "Blond, medium build, sixteen or so?" "Skater, plays Hammers?" I added, tapping the Hammers & Hordes rulebook on the table in front of me. "That would be the one," Wren said with a touch of sadness. "He lost his younger sister, maybe a year ago. It was an accident, but he blames us. And no, I won't go into the details right now." I was hit with warring feelings of sadness for Liam's loss, and anger at Wren's deflection. But Wren was here, not Liam. So guess which side won. "That's convenient," I said. "His sister died and you say you got blamed, but you won't say why you are all innocent?" "It's decidedly inconvenient," said Wren, emphasizing the last word. "I would much rather give you less reason not to like me." "You want me to like you?" I scoffed. He nodded, the hint of a smile in the corners of his mouth. "You're interesting. I would rather get to know you better." "And what about you-" I started to ask Garrett, but I was addressing an empty seat. "Huh? When did Garrett leave?" "Oh," said Wren. "I'm not sure. Not long after Dom took off, I'd imagine." "Fine," I sighed. "Whatever. So if it's just you and me, maybe I can get a straight answer out of you about something?" "What would that be?" "Anything!" I said in frustration. "You dodge questions better than a ninja playing dodgeball!" Wren laughed. It was a high, tinkling laugh. Very feminine, matching his looks. I think it was the first time I had heard him laugh in a way that was genuine. I kind of got lost in its sound for a moment. Finally he quieted, but the mirth stayed with his features. It softened his face, breaking up its chiseled perfection. Before he could speak, I jumped in. "You should smile more," I said quietly. "It makes you look prettier." The smile shifted. Sadly, it went back to his more practiced, plastic smile. "Not that one," I said, with a hint of sadness. "Now you're wearing your fake smile. It makes you look too perfect, like someone's dress up doll." He got a surprised look on his face. Fearing I had insulted him, I scrambled to walk back my words. "I mean, you look amazing! Really. It's just that, the smile you had after you laughed just now, it looked more real. The smile you changed to, it looks, I don't know, practiced." "Interesting," said Wren, and his face changed again. It was like something relaxed. That genuine smile returned, if only slightly. "That!" I exclaimed. "That right there looks real, not fake. I like it better." My embarrassment caught up to me mid phrase as I said, "I like that smile a... lot better." "You are intriguing," said Wren, keeping his softer, real smile. "I wonder what other secrets Dom is hiding about you." "About that," I said, glad at the change of topic. "What's the thing with you and Mr. Tsui? All three of you talk about him like you don't like him. And yet, you do what he says like he's your boss or something." "Or something," Wren said carefully. "He and I are... well, rivals, I suppose." "Even though he's older than you? Can I ask how old you are?" "How old do you think I am?" he said slyly, that fake, devilish smile returning. "There it is again. That fake smile," I muttered, not sure if I was teasing or annoyed. "But I guess you look maybe 16 or 17 right now." He got a curious look on his face, so I elaborated. "But sometimes you have this way of looking, like the way you carry yourself, and the look on your face, where you look more adult, like you're in your 20s or something. It's weird." Then an idea hit me. "Have you been to some kind of boarding school where they taught fancy manners? Or maybe worked in modeling or something? It's like sometimes you just look, I don't know, professional." "And by `professional', you mean..." "Fake," I laughed with a bit of embarrassment. The longer this went on, the more likely I was to piss him off. I really didn't want that. "You really are intriguing," said Wren, and I was pretty sure there was a level of fascination in there. Some kind of interest. Regardless, his face went back to looking genuine. I was getting whiplash from the expression changes. I jumped as my phone rang. I dug it out of my pocket and saw it was my Mom calling. Or at least, a call from her phone. Dreading what I might hear, I answered it. "He-ello?" I heard my mom's voice. She sounded tired, but a little panicky. "Jason, where are you? I'm leaving the police station, but I don't see you." "I'm sorry, Mom. I had to get out of there. I'm at the comic store over on the square." She sighed. From frustration or relief, I didn't know. "Stay there. I'll come get you." "I can come meet you," I offered. There was a lot going on. I wanted to try to be helpful, after all the shit I caused with Dad. "No, it's dark out. I'll be over there in just a few minutes." She was silent for a minute, then said, "Are you hungry?" I realized it had been several hours since that shitty lunch of cold fries and bad burger. "Yeah, but I'm not sure if I could eat, the way I'm feeling." "Yeah," she sighed. "Anyway, I'll be over there in a few minutes. Watch for me out front." "Yes, ma'am." "Don't make me come in there after you." The sharpness in her voice made me worried she agreed this was my fault. It definitely did not help my mood. I was not looking forward to what our conversations tonight might look like. "Yes, ma'am," I started to say, but the call went dead. I slipped the phone back in my pocket and looked across the table at Wren. "Welp, I guess it's time for me to go. I guess they decided not to hold her for now." "That sounds like good news," said Wren. "Does this mean you can go home now?" "Home," I scoffed. "We haven't even spent the night there yet, and we are probably going to lose the house." Then the details caught up with me. "They didn't even unload all our shi- I mean, stuff. I don't even know if the moving truck is still there." He reached across the table, laying his cold hand on mine. I wanted to pull away, but his cold fingers were soothing. I looked up and met his eyes. They were deep pools of a warm chestnut brown. How could I ever think his expression was plastic and fake? But then there was another one of those shifts, a frame of reality skipped over, and the smile was practiced and cold. But his voice was warm and laced with concern as he said, "Jason, I'm sure it is going to work out." I stared back, trying to decide if he was giving a tired platitude, or actually gave a damn. "You're sure, huh?" I said skeptically. "I can all but guarantee it." And with that cryptic reply, Wren withdrew his hand and leaned back in his chair. The look on his face was more subtle, more a smile of sadness as he said, "Take the rulebook with you. You don't have one yet, do you?" I shook my head and said, "No, but I also don't have any money anymore, remember?" "I'll take care of it. Get outside so your mother isn't having to wait on you." I stood up, picking up the book. "Thanks," I mumbled. Two days in a row Wren had bought me something. If this kept up, I was going to owe half my army to him. "Will I see you again anytime soon?" "Text me when you find out what your weekend looks like. I'll teach you some more about playing `H & H'." "What's your number, then?" "Check the number that texted you before. Make the last digit a 9 instead of 5. Easiest time to play would be Sunday night, about this time." "Alright, goodbye then," I said hesitantly. "I'll message you." I blushed a little as I added, "Thanks for the book." Wren stood to watch me go. In the front glass windows, there were posters plastered everywhere. But in a spot between posters, I was able to see a bright reflection of the store's interior. I looked in the glass to catch one last glimpse of that beautiful boy, but I couldn't see him. As I made it to the door, I looked back to the gaming area, and saw he and Garrett pulling out bags. I guess he had just moved, and I hadn't seen him in the glass. I waited just inside until I saw the car pull up, which took another fifteen minutes, then ran out and climbed into the passenger seat. "Where's your coat, young man?" She seemed more surprised than pissed. "At home. I didn't exactly have a lot of time to think about things when I was being hustled out of the house and into a squad car." She could be pissy all she wanted, but I was in a mood to dish it back. "Baby, I'm sorry." She looked like she was fighting back tears. "I shouldn't snap at you. You're right. This isn't your fault." I decided she needed a break. She's not the one that started this. "It isn't your fault either, Mom. I mean, they let you go, right? You didn't do nothin' wrong." Mom insisted we needed to eat, even though neither of us were really hungry, so we went just to the outskirts of town and grabbed some Taco Bell before heading to the house. We were both surprised to see that the living room was pretty much packed. It seemed that the movers had finished unloading the truck, but had simply dumped the rest of our possessions just inside the front door. But at least it was here. This, of course, dictated what my Saturday looked like. Fortunately I had been able to do enough with my bed before all the drama that I had a place to sleep. The next day, I was up early, busting my ass to move the rest of the boxes and furniture items to the various rooms where they needed to go. They had already taken in the heavy and bulky furniture first off the truck, so it was mostly moving lots and lots... and lots... of boxes and things like end tables. Mom was equally busy, unpacking the kitchen and family room. We didn't talk much, but neither were we hostile. As noon approached, we hopped in the car, grabbed lunch, and went grocery shopping. Since we had literally no food in the house except for two boxes of dry goods from the pantry, we did a decent job of loading a cart. After we checked out, I had to ask the question that had been simmering in the back of my mind all day. "Why did Dad get so pissed over that money? You said you were givin' it to me, and Daddy wasn't going to be comin' after it?" "Oh, baby, that was my fault," she said. She wasn't looking at me as she talked. "We were goin' at it, and I told him I gave you that $200." "So? You said it was mine." "I was mad," she said. The way she was talking, I knew what was coming next, and I was already getting pissed. Sure enough, she said, "I... kind of said it in a way that was not... nice." "In other words," I snapped, "you said it in a way that you knew would get under his skin! You said it to piss him off!" "Baby, I-" "You didn't give a shit that he was gonna come take it out on me!" I shouted. My voice filled the car. "You knew he'd come after me, but you didn't care!" How much more of this could I take? "All you cared about was winning whatever you were fuckin' arguin' about!" She didn't speak as I caught my breath. She didn't even call me out for my cussing. I was so angry, I wanted to hit something. She had told me last night that they let her go, mainly to take care of me, while they waited to decide if they were going to press charges on her. Right then, I wish they would. It's bad enough that your own father beats on you. Your mom should stop him. He didn't hit me often, true. And as far as I knew, he didn't hit her at all, even though she threw things at him all the time. But fuck, this was getting old. At least he was in jail for the weekend. Mom had said they couldn't do anything about bail until Monday at the earliest. Apparently that was up to a judge. So at least he wasn't around for the next couple of days. I'd carry every single box we owned, in exchange for this peace and quiet. And that's pretty much what I did for most of the day. I was so caught up in my own head and all the work, that I forgot about texting Wren. It was after dinner, chicken sandwiches with macaroni and cheese, our first official meal in the new house, that I finally pulled out my phone and tried texting the new number he told me. --This is Jason from the store-- I waited, trying to relax my brain, before only a minute later receiving a response. --Jason, I'm glad to hear back from you. This is Wren. Please add me into your contacts, and I shall do the same. You survived your day, I see?-- I was tempted to try and duck out of the house tonight. I mean, if I remembered correctly, the store was open `til 3am tonight. But it had been a really long day, and I was wiped both physically and emotionally. --Barely. 2nites no good. Is tomorrow okay? Maybe 7?-- --Tomorrow would be great. I imagine you've had a long day. I'll miss you though.-- Huh? What did that mean, he'll miss me? Maybe it'll get added to all the other mysteries I was still working on solving. Maybe I should start a journal of everything I had to figure out the answer to. Maybe I needed to take notes of all the clues or something. Yeah, as if. However, before calling it a night, I told Mom I was going to be going back over to meet Wren the next evening after dinner. I wanted to explain who he was, but the simplest explanation I could give was that he was a friend I had met. I almost said he was one of the Ravens from the meeting, but then remembered what Erin had said. So far she hadn't asked about the fucked up dinner, so I hadn't brought it up either. Sunday started out as more unpacking, but a bit after lunch I called it a day and took some time for myself. Since I finally had my desk again, I opened up the modeling and paint supplies and opened the box with the Collective character. It had a little instruction pamphlet on how to assemble him, but I was so scared I would mess up my first model that I ended up paralyzed. I decided to wait and see if Erin could help me get started. I would have asked Wren, but his sister seemed more patient with the hobby stuff. I ended up putting all the supplies, rulebook, and both miniature boxes in my backpack, and took them with me up to the store that evening. Mom wasn't crazy about me going out, especially considering that the next day was my first day at the new school. I assured her that I had gone over the stuff they had sent me home with, and knew the room numbers for my first few classes. I even reminded her that I already had a few friends that were in my grade, and promised to go to the school early to make sure everything would be good. She told me she wished she could go with me to get settled in, which wasn't happening, no way, no how, but she had to go to the courthouse to find out about bail. Anyway, I did go to the game store, and while I did play an introductory game with Wren, I was right that he wasn't very patient with teaching me how to play. He ended up back in another game with Garrett, while Erin worked with me. She even took a good bit of time showing me how to assemble my character and get him ready for painting. She was nice, and gave me a lot of confidence for when I would need to assemble my other models on my own. She even assured me not to worry about painting them in an expert way. She explained that later on when I had more experience, if I didn't like how I painted the first models, there were easy ways to strip off the paint so I could redo them. It turned out to be a relaxing and fun end to my weekend. I was even home by 11. Monday started out better than I expected. I received a text about an hour before school with Taki's address, telling me to meet them there so I could ditch my board. When we met up, Taki, Wheeler, Scott, and Boots all kind of took charge, grabbed my schedule, and divided up my day, swearing they would make sure I found all my classes and would have a table to sit at for lunch. Really, the guys were amazing. When we got to the school, the Principal met us at the top of the steps at the entrance. She looked us over, spending extra attention on me. "Well, Mister Docker. I can't say I'm ecstatic in your choice of friends, but at least you have chosen to pay attention to the dress code." She seemed mean, but I was starting to suspect she was all bite. True, I had gone out of my way to pick out some of my nicer clothes for my first day. I knew if I didn't Mom would. That was an embarrassment I could easily avoid. The morning went well, and I seemed to fit into the classes fairly well. I hadn't bothered looking over the schoolwork they had sent home with me Friday, but looking it over in my first two classes, it didn't seem to be too far off from what I was used to. And if it was off, I'd either pass or fail, whichever happened. Lunch had probably been the time I had been most worried about, considering what a cultural struggle it could be. Fortunately the gang took care of that for me. I had no problem being instantly identified as one of the burnout skaters, since that was exactly what I was. So we were all there, cutting up and messing around. Liam had joined us but was staying quiet. He still hadn't expressed whether he was going to stay pissed at me, and I wasn't ready yet to ask. Maybe after some time skating together. Ripping up some concrete together usually smoothed most things out, if there was any friendship there worth having. Taki was just telling us about some new website he had found when we noticed one of the teachers on lunchroom monitor detail, making a beeline straight at us. I looked around, trying to figure out if one of us had done something wrong, while also tapping Boots and Scott, the two on either side of me, on their arms. By the time the teacher reached us, we had all stopped talking and were watching her approach. She didn't seem angry, but instead worried. "Jason? Jason Docker?" she said, looking us over. "Yes, ma'am, that's me," I responded, curious what I'd done. "Can you please come with me?" "What'd he do?" piped up Boots. He looked like he was ready to jump in a fight for me. "Please come with me, Jason. You are needed in the office." She stood and watched me, until I finally started gathering up my trash. "Your friends can take care of that for you, right boys? Jason, please come with me." Now I was completely confused. I looked around at the rest of the guys and said I'd check back with them in a bit. Then I got up, grabbed my backpack, and followed her out of the cafeteria. She led me through the school, down the empty halls. Her shoes clacked on the linoleum floors as I struggled to catch up. I tried to ask her what was going on and whether I was in trouble for some reason, but she wouldn't answer. She just said it wasn't "her place", whatever that meant. Finally we reached the front office. It was the third time I had been in here, first with my mother last week, and then Friday to pick up my laptop. I was surprised to see that my mom was there, speaking with the principal. She led me and my mom into a small conference room. "I'll give you a few minutes alone," she said quietly, closing the door as she left. "Mom, what the hell? What's going on?" I could tell she was upset, and it was scaring me. "Baby, there's somethin' I need to tell you," she said. She seemed like she was holding back tears. "Your daddy's dead."