Stand Your Ground: A Novel by Victoria Christopher Murray Page A

just a fraction of what it’d been when he walked through the door.
    He said, “Janice, I know you’re not happy with any of this. I wish you could be by my side as I fight for everything right for Marquis. But I get that you can’t. At least not yet. Not until we bury our son.
    “But for me, his burial doesn’t mean what it means to you. In my head, I can’t see the funeral, I can’t see burying him, I can’t see anything except the justice that’s due to my son. That’s all my eyes can see.”
    I got that.
    And I got it even more when he stepped closer to me. “I just want you to remember that I love you. I love you so much.”
    Before I could show him that I loved him, too, the doorbell rang. And the corners of his lips twitched.
    I leaned away from him and folded my arms across my chest. Was Tyrone getting ready to smile? How could he smile now when I wasn’t sure that I’d ever smile again?
    He took my hand. “Come with me,” he said.
    I wanted to snatch my hand away and stay in my mad state of mind, but when the doorbell rang again, curiosity made me slide off the bar stool and let him lead me.
    Tyrone held me with one hand, and with the other, he opened the door. And there stood Raj.
    I growled.
    Raj stepped aside and then, I burst into tears.
    M y best friend was a teeny tiny little thing—at least compared to me. I dwarfed Syreeta’s five-foot-two-inch frame with my own, which had me standing just a little over five seven. And last week at this time, I weighed a good one-sixty, one-seventy. That was before death had taken more than my heart; it’d stolen my appetite, too.
    But no matter what I weighed, I still jumped into Syreeta’s arms as if she were the larger of the two of us.
    “What are you doing here?”
    Syreeta gasped as if she were struggling to breathe. “What do you think?” she said, sounding like a frog.
    “I’m sorry,” I said, even though I wasn’t. I pulled her into the house. “How did you get here?”
    “Well”—she followed me inside—“they have this new invention called the airplane.”
    Tears still rolled from my eyes when I laughed and turned to Tyrone. “You knew about this?”
    “He knew about it; he arranged it,” Syreeta answered for my husband. “I mean, I was coming anyway, but Tyrone got me on that red-eye last night. He said you needed me.”
    She had barely explained it all before I had my arms wrapped around Tyrone. “Thank you,” I whispered into his ear.
    Syreeta said, “And then I couldn’t fly into Philly because all of those flights were full. So I flew to New York and Raj picked me up early this morning.”
    I had forgotten about my brother-in-law, seemingly forgiven by all except for me. But I was proud that I was able to get “thank you” out of my mouth, then stop there without adding a curse word.
    Turning back to Syreeta, I hugged my best friend again. “I am so glad you’re here.”
    “There is no place else I’d want to be right now.” Leaning away from me, she added, “Jan, I still can’t believe this.” Her words were a trigger, shooting tears into her eyes.
    I sat on the second stair and she lowered herself next to me right as Tyrone’s cell phone rang. I hardly noticed when he and Raj stepped away from us and into the living room.
    She held my hand when she asked, “How are you getting through this?”
    I shook my head. “I don’t know. I’m really shocked that I’m still breathing, and the world is still spinning without Marquis. Kind of feels like everything should’ve stopped.”
    She nodded. “I couldn’t stop thinking about Marquis on the plane. I kept remembering when he was born, and when he was five, and when I got him his first Hot Wheels set, and then, when I bought him his first cell phone. How can he be gone?” she wailed. “And for what reason? His life was taken away for nothing.”
    Syreeta’s words had been my thoughts all night long.
    “And Raj said that the medical examiner still has our