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Sienna asked as she peeked out of the cracked door of her apartment.
    â€œSienna, we need to talk,” Ms. Monica said as she stood behind Bleu and Noah, her hands protectively placed on each of their shoulders.
    â€œTalk for what? What this damned girl done did now?” Sienna asked. “Didn’t you leave here with Wayne’s ass? Where the hell he at?”
    Sienna’s eyes were bloodshot red and dilated, her hair all over her head, and she let her satin robe fall open slightly, revealing herself unabashedly.
    The smell of crack invaded Bleu’s nose. She didn’t know if Noah or his mother could smell it, but she had been around it enough to know exactly what it smelled like. Her mother’s sweaty skin and disheveled appearance was a dead giveaway that she was high. She was vulgar as she flashed her personals, not even feeling the draft between her legs as she stood there. Bleu was filled with an embarrassment so great that she wanted to cry.
    â€œSienna. Pull yourself together. Something has happened,” Ms. Monica stated with disdain in her voice. Bleu heard the cynical tone that Ms. Monica used. She was judging Bleu’s mother. Everyone judged her. Sienna made it easy for people to talk shit because her shit was never together. She was a disgrace of a mother … a disgrace of a woman … a waste of perfectly good air. In that moment Bleu hated her. Sienna stood, high as a kite, probably fresh off the block, and she was oblivious to the fact that their lives had been changed forever. Bleu doubted if the news would even affect her.
    â€œExcuse me?” Sienna countered.
    â€œWayne was killed, Sienna,” Ms. Monica revealed.
    The news hit Sienna like a ton of bricks as devastation destroyed the smug expression on her face. The revelation had blown her high, grounding her, as it felt like a fist was squeezing her chest. Bleu could never understand the unusual bond that Sienna and Wayne shared. They had grown up together, gotten money together, and fallen from grace together. Their fights were bad, and they had gotten trapped in the clutches of addiction, but through it all they had done so together. Wayne had been a life companion … one who forgave her indiscretions because he had had a few of his own. They had a closet full of skeletons that they had filled together. The only reason why she and Wayne ever fought was because of their history. He reminded her of how good life used to be, before she had ever taken her first hit. He knew how amazing she once was, and it reminded her of how worthless she was now. They had once been a young couple with dreams, but life had turned them into two people linked by a love for a common drug. Crackheads. It was all they would ever be. There was no rewriting their fate. Tears accumulated in her eyes.
    â€œHow?” she asked.
    â€œThey said he tried to rob a bank. The police shot him. The kids were in the car,” Ms. Monica replied.
    â€œGet in the house,” Sienna said to Bleu.
    Bleu timidly stepped forward, but Ms. Monica pulled her back.
    â€œSienna, so help me I will call CPS on you. Get your act together and leave that shit alone. You take care of this little girl,” Ms. Monica threatened.
    Sienna was pulsing with hostility and anger as Wayne’s death haunted her. She needed a release and the rocks she had in her pocket were more than enough to compensate, but Ms. Monica wanted to put herself in the line of fire. “Stay out of my business. What I do with my child is none of your concern. Don’t turn your nose up at me, Ms. Holier than Thou. You ain’t no saint. You ever bring CPS to my door and I’ll bust your little food stamp scam right on up,” Sienna threatened. She pointed her finger inside the apartment. “Now, Bleu, get your little ass in this muthafuckin’ house.”
    Bleu rushed inside, running to her room, overwhelmed, afraid, angry, hungry,