Page 48 of The Prodigy 2: Rise of a Queen

A lone sheet of paper, folded in half, contained a numbered list. First on the list was for me to check the glove box and press star one on the phone that was inside.

The interior of the car was hot and stuffy, but the phone was right where it was supposed to be. I pressed star one and waited, and when I heard Jakari’s voice, I let out a sigh of relief.

So did he.

“Where you at?”

“I’m in the storage unit. In the car.”

“Nobody followed you?”

“I didn’t see anybody. What’s going on?”

He sighed. “I’ll explain when I see you.”

“And when will that be?”

“Soon.”

“Okay.” I was quiet for a minute, comforted by the sound of his breathing. “Am I safe?”

“Yeah. You are now. But I need you to get to the next location as soon as possible. Where’s your cellphone?”

“In my hand.”

“Turn that shit off and don’t use it again. Aight, there’s an address in the glove box. Plug that in, get the directions, and then drive straight there. You got a full tank, so you don’t need to stop.”

“Okay.”

“I’ma meet you there tonight. Aight?”

“Okay. Areyousafe?”

“Yeah. I’m good. Hit me when you get there, okay?”

“Alright.”

He gave me a few more details before we hung up, then I steeled myself for the next leg of my journey.

The house was easy to find. The driveway was not. It was in the middle of nowhere, halfway between Midling and Atlanta. Just like that night outside the bar, all I heard were crickets and cicadas as I eased down the rocky dirt road and around the side of the small ranch house.

I grabbed my purse and exited, making my way through the darkness up the path to the front door. I knocked and waited, and when the door opened, a smiling woman who looked way too much like Gab for my comfort greeted me with a hug.

“Hi. I’m Mal—”

“Malika. I know, girl. Come on in.”

Struck by the warmth in her voice, I followed right behind her into the house and stood there awkwardly, waiting for her to tell me what to do next.

“I’m Vanessa.” She turned the locks on the front door. All four of them. “You can call me Auntie Van. That’s what Kari calls me.”

“Gab’s sister.”

She rolled her eyes. “Biologically.”

I smiled. I liked her already.

She turned and walked, and I followed her into the small kitchen. “Set that bag down, sweetheart, and then go wash up. I’m about to put the food out.”

---