The Cartel Deluxe Edition

Genres: African American Urban

Synopsis

The port of Miami brings in millions of dollars’ worth of cocaine every year, and the Cartel controls eighty percent of it. The Diamond family is a force to be reckoned with, but all hell breaks loose when they lose their leader. The most ruthless gangster Miami has ever seen, Carter Diamond, leaves behind a wife, twin sons, a daughter, and a secret. The secret is his illegitimate son, Carter Jones. When young Carter learns of his father’s death, he comes to town and is introduced to the legacy of the Cartel

Miamor is a woman who uses her beauty to enhance her skill as a contract killer. She is the leader of The Murder Mamas. When her crew is hired to take down the Cartel, they get caught slipping, and Miamor loses her sister in the process. She is determined to get revenge. Unknowingly, she meets the son of Carter Diamond, and he immediately catches her heart. She is sleeping with the enemy, and when she finds out, she is torn between love and revenge. 

Thus begins the saga of the Cartel, the New York Times bestselling series by street lit superstars Ashley & Jaquavis. Every book in the series is full of their trademark fast-paced drama, deceit, and plot twists that will leave you shocked. Now fans can relive the story of the Diamond family in this deluxe edition, with books one through three all under one cover.

Release date: January 30, 2018

Publisher: Urban Books

Print pages: 400

Sample

The packed courtroom was abuzz as the anticipation built, and the onlookers stared at the man who made it snow. Carter Diamond was the head of “The Cartel,” an infamous crime organization, and the entire city of Miami knew it. Scattered throughout the courtroom, the entire Cartel was in attendance, all of them wearing black attire.

With a model’s posture, he sat next to his defense lawyer, slowly rubbing his salt-and-pepper goatee, thinking about the weight of the verdict. Accused of racketeering and using his multimillion-dollar real estate company to launder drug money, Carter could potentially go to jail for the rest of his life. The case had drawn a lot of heat when key witnesses began to come up missing or dead, including a politician who turned informant to save his own behind.

A slight grin spread across Carter’s face as he looked at the judge and realized that the chances of a guilty verdict were between slim and next to none. Just the night before, his accountant had wired the judge one million dollars to an offshore account. And just to ensure his freedom, eight of the twelve jurors had family members missing and in the custody of Carter’s henchmen. At forty-three years old he was on top of the world. Fuck the mayor, Carter ran the city.

Carter glanced back at his family, his beautiful wife, daughter, and twin sons, who sat in the front row behind him. He winked at them and gave them his perfect smile.

It amazed Carter’s family that he could be in the scariest of situations and still manage to make everything seem all right.

He stared into his wife’s green eyes and admired her long, flowing, jet-black hair. Baby hair rested perfectly on her edges as her natural mocha skin glowed. Taryn, his wife, was a full-blooded Dominican and could have easily been mistaken for a top model. At age thirty-eight, she was just as beautiful as when she’d met Carter at sixteen.

Carter then glanced over to his daughter, Breeze, the spitting image of her mother and also his baby girl. At age nineteen, she was beautiful, intelligent, and being mixed with Black and Dominican gave her a goddess look. She had long, thick hair with green eyes, which made her every man’s desire and every woman’s envy. She smiled at her father, letting him know she was there to support him.

Carter looked at his two sons, Mecca and Monroe, AKA Money. They were the two oldest at twenty-one, and although they were twins, they were completely opposite. Mecca was the wilder of the two. He wore long braids and was a shade darker than Money. His body had twenty tattoos on it, including the two on his neck, enhancing his thuggish appearance. He was the more ruthless one. Mecca, wanting so badly to follow in the footsteps of his father and become the next kingpin of Miami, was notorious throughout Dade County for his trigger-happy ways.

Money was the humbler and more reserved of the two.

His Dominican features seemed to shine through more than his twin brother’s. His light skin and curly hair made him look more like a pretty boy than a gangster, but his looks were deceiving. Unlike his brother, he wore a neat low-cut and had no tattoos. Focusing more on the money aspect of the game, Money was a born hustler, and if the streets gave out degrees he would’ve had a doctorate. Although he wasn’t as coldhearted as his brother, he wasn’t to be underestimated.

It was in their blood to be gangsters. In the early eighties their Dominican grandfather ran the most lucrative drug cartel Miami had ever seen, and their father was his predecessor. Their family was “street royalty” by all means.

The media had a field day with this trial, covering it since day one. CNN news cameras and several other stations had been broadcasting live footage of the spectacle for the last six months.

The sound of the gavel striking the sounding block echoed throughout the packed courtroom when the jurors filed into the courtroom after two hours of deliberation. The time had finally come for the verdict.

“Order in the court!” The judge looked over to the jury pool. “Has the jury come to a verdict?”

All eyes were on the juror as he paused before delivering the verdict, and all of the news cameras were pointed to Carter, trying to capture his reaction to his fate. The courtroom got so silent, you could hear a pin drop.

The head juror stood up with a small piece of paper in his hand. “Yes, Your Honor, we have. We the jury find Carter Diamond not guilty on all charges.”

As the courtroom erupted with a mixture of victorious cheers and disappointing sighs, Carter nonchalantly loosened his tie and winked at the judge just before he firmly shook his lawyer’s hand.

“Congratulations, Carter,” the lawyer said as he gathered his files and placed them into his briefcase, the flashes from the cameras flickering nonstop.

“Thank you.” Carter turned around to celebrate with his family.

When Taryn ran to him with open arms, he smoothly spun her around and kissed her passionately as if they were the only two in the room. He looked in her eyes and whispered, “I love you.”

“I love you too, Carter Diamond,” she replied as she hung from his neck.

Carter focused his attention on his kids. He kissed Breeze on the cheek, and she whispered in his ear, “Diamonds are forever.”

“That’s right, baby girl.” Carter embraced her with one hand and grabbed Mecca’s head with the other. He kissed him on top of the head and then did the same to Monroe.

Carter looked at all the reporters and photographers flocking in his direction and said, “Let’s get out of here.” With his wife and daughter under his arms, and his family around him, he made his way out of the courtroom.

News reporters tried to get a comment from him, but members of The Cartel stopped them before they could get close.

As soon as Carter exited the building, he embraced his right-hand man, Archie Pollard, AKA Polo, who was waiting outside of the courtroom, along with a wave of thugs wearing all black.

Polo leaned close to Carter’s ear and whispered, “We did it, baby!”

“No doubt,” Carter said. “This city is mine.”

Carter stood at the top of the steps, feeling on top of the world. He pulled out a Cuban cigar and lit it, his diamond cufflinks blinging as he gave the world a view of his exclusive accessories. Looking out onto the streets, he noticed that the cops had sealed off the area to maintain traffic control. Everyone in the city was trying to get a glimpse of the “King of Miami.”

Money noticed something wasn’t right. As he looked at each officer and saw that they all had one thing in common. They all seemed to be of Haitian descent. By the time he realized what was happening, it was too late. One of the fake news reporters pulled out his 9 mm and pointed it at Breeze.

“Noooo!” Money screamed as he tried to warn his sister.

Polo became aware of what was about to happen and shoved the Haitian, causing him to tumble down the stairs before he could let off a shot.

All of a sudden, two dreadlocked Haitians popped out of the oversized dumpster, both with AR-15 assault rifles, and began letting off shots at The Cartel. It was complete pandemonium as shots rang out, hitting innocent bystanders, all in an effort to take out Carter Diamond.

Outnumbered, the members of The Cartel were defenseless. And Carter and his family were moving targets. As everyone scrambled for cover, Carter grabbed his daughter and wife and threw them to the ground, shielding them with his body.

A bullet ripped through Money’s arm, and he fell to the ground. Mecca ran to his side, trying to protect his twin brother.

Meanwhile, Polo had pulled out his 9 mm and began to return fire. He had managed to keep the Haitians off long enough for the rest of The Cartel to come and help.

As the two crews traded bullets, many people got caught in the crossfire. The scene was a total bloodbath, with dead bodies sprawled out across the steps of the courthouse.

Carter, totally disregarding his own safety, tried his best to cover his two favorite girls from the raining bullets.

The police officer who had escorted Carter out of the courtroom shot at the Haitians. “Come on! Follow me,” he yelled. He looked at Carter and waved his hand, signaling them to follow him.

Carter hated police, but at that moment he was happy to see one. He gathered up Taryn and Breeze and followed the officer back into the courthouse.

“I parked my police car in the back. Come on! They’ll be coming in here after you any second now,” the cop said as he closed the courthouse door.

“Let’s go, y’all,” Carter yelled in a panicked voice to his wife and daughter as they followed the policeman down the stairs and into the basement.

Carter thought about his sons outside, but he knew they could hold their own. His main concern was the women. They raced through the court halls and finally made it to the exit. Just as the cop said, he had his squad car parked in the back. Carter felt relieved. They all got in, and he frantically searched his wife’s and daughter’s body, making sure they were okay. “Are you hit? Are you guys okay?” he asked as he continued to search their bloodstained clothes. He realized that the blood was not from them, but from all the blood flying from the other people.

“No, I’m good, Poppa,” Breeze answered, tears flowing down her face, her hands shaking uncontrollably.

“I’m okay,” Taryn said.

Carter hugged and kissed them both and thanked God that they were okay. His concern now was for his sons. He looked up at the cop that sat in the front seat and said, “Thanks, bruh. Look, I need you to take them to safety while I go back and—”

Boom!

Before Carter could finish his sentence, the cop put a hollow-tip through his head, his blood and brains instantly splattering all over his wife’s and daughter’s face as he stared with dead eyes.

In total shock, both of the women yelled, “Noooo!”

The cop pulled off his hat, and his short dreadlocks fell loosely. He pointed the gun at Carter’s body and filled him with four more bullets, ensuring that the job was done. The screams of the women didn’t seem to bother him as he smiled through the whole process. The man wasn’t a cop at all, but a full-blooded Haitian that could pass for a regular joe, his light skin disguising his heritage.

He pointed his gun at Taryn, and she looked directly in his eyes, unafraid of death, while Breeze gripped her father and cried hysterically. The Haitian couldn’t bring himself to pull the trigger and hopped out the car.

This was the beginning of a war.

Welcome to The Cartel . . . first of a trilogy.

Seven Years Earlier

Carter sat at the head of the table with both of his hands folded into each other. He briefly stared at each of his ten head henchmen in the face as he looked around the table, then to his right-hand man Polo, who sat to his right. As he always did, Carter took his time before speaking. He always chose his words carefully and spoke very slowly with his deep baritone voice. He poured Dom into his oversized wine cup and took a sip.

“Family, today The Cartel has expanded. The days of handover-fist pay is over. It’s a new day, a new world, a new era. For the last ten years I have flooded the streets of Miami with the finest coke and built a monopoly. I love all of you as if you were my own blood. That’s why I’m giving you the opportunity to grow. You can’t hustle forever. I’ve recently acquired a real estate company, and this way we can turn all of this dirty money into clean money. I want all my niggas to eat with me. So, if you want to be a part of this, here is your chance.” Carter took another sip and passed the cup to Polo.

Without saying a word, Polo took a sip out of the same cup, signaling his response to Carter’s proposition. He passed the cup to the next man, and he did the same. Real niggas did real things, and the cup got passed around the room, and all men drank from the same cup.

Mecca and Money peeked around the corner, listening in on their father’s meeting. Although they were only fourteen, they wanted so bad to be a part of The Cartel. They both noticed at an early age how much respect their father received from everyone in the streets. They would get special treatment in school from teachers and students. Some of their friends’ parents would go as far as giving them presents and hinting to them to mention it to their father. They loved how real their father was. He would talk to bums on the street as if they were the president of the U.S.A. He treated every man as his equal, as long as they respected him and his family. For lack of better words, Carter was a real nigga, and both of the twins admired him greatly and wanted to be just like him . . . but for different reasons.

Monroe loved the way his father stayed fresh at all times and was a great business and family man. He observed his father’s style and immediately idolized him. Carter never wore the same shirt twice and only wore the finest threads. Money also took note of and admired his father’s business savvy. Every move he made was a business move, a move that would benefit him in the future.

Mecca, on the other hand, admired his father’s street fame. He loved the way the street respected and feared his father. He would hear stories about his father being the man that made it snow, in a city that had never seen a winter season, or cutting off fingers if workers stole. In Mecca’s eyes, Scarface didn’t have shit on his father.

While other kids were worried about candy and chasing skirts, Mecca was thinking about chasing money and being the next king of Miami.

As they eavesdropped on the conference, they watched as each man took a sip out of the cup.

“Mecca and Money, come in here.” Carter calmly grabbed the cup that had rotated back to him.

Since Carter’s back was toward them, when he called their name, it surprised them. It was as if he had eyes in the back of his head. They slowly walked into the room. The boys stood nervously next to him, knowing that they got caught spying on him and that their father was very strict when it came to handling business. They eased up when they saw a slight grin form on his face.

Carter passed Money the cup and looked around to make sure their mother wasn’t around. “Take a sip of that,” he said.

Money looked at the cup as if he was scared to take a sip.

Mecca noticed his brother’s uneasiness and grabbed the cup from him. He took a gigantic gulp of the liquor, and a burning sensation rushed down his throat. It took all of his willpower not to spit it out. His face twisted up as he put one hand on his chest, hoping that the burn would go away.

Polo noticed his expression and laughed loudly. “That’ll put some hair on ya chest, nephew!” he said in between laughs.

Carter joined him in laughter as he watched his other son take the cup and take a moderate sip. Money’s face didn’t change its expression. He took the gulp like a man.

Money handed the cup back to his father and stood there with his chest out, as if he was trying to prove that he was a man. Mecca followed suit.

“Why were you two eavesdropping on Poppa?” Carter playfully hit both of his sons in the chest.

Money shrugged his shoulders as if to say, “I don’t know.”

Mecca looked around the table, seeing nothing but hustlers and killers. He then looked at his father, who sat at the forefront of them, and a smile spread across his face. “Poppa, I want to be just like you. I wanna be a gangster,” Mecca said as he stepped in front of his brother.

One of the hustlers at the table chuckled as he looked at Mecca. “Li’l man got hustle in him. That’s a gangster in the making right there,” the man said.

Carter shot a look at the man that said a thousand words. If looks could kill, the man would’ve been circled in chalk. “No, my son will never be that. Watch ya mouth, fam,” Carter stated firmly as he focused his attention back on Mecca. “Look, sons, you are better than this. This game chose us, we didn’t choose the game. You got the game twisted. I do this, so you don’t have to,” Carter said, as a somber feeling came over him. It hurt his heart to hear Mecca say that he wanted to be a gangster like him.

“Let me show you two something,” Carter said before he looked at his henchmen that sat at the long red oak table. “How many of you have lost someone close to you because of this drug game?

Slowly everyone at the table raised their hands, to help Carter prove a point.

“How many of you go to bed with a pistol under your pillow?” Carter asked. “And how many of you want to get out of the game?”

Mecca and Money looked at everyone in the room holding up their hands, and Carter’s point was proven.

“Do you two understand, this game . . . is not a game?”

Mecca and Money nodded their heads, understanding the lesson that their father had just sprinkled them with.

“Take another sip of this and head to bed.” Carter smiled and handed Money the cup. After the boys took a small sip of the drink, he grabbed both of their heads at the same time and kissed them on top of it. “Don’t tell your mother,” he whispered to them just before they exited the conference room.

Although Carter had explained to them the cons of the street life, the allure of the game was too powerful, and Mecca and Money wanted in. They just had to wait their turn.

Breeze stood at her balcony, totally astounded by the view, and stared into the stars. Her balcony hovered over their small lake and faced their gigantic backyard. The Diamond residence was immaculate. They had just moved there, and it was a big jump from the dilapidated projects of Dade County. Breeze’s twelve-year-old eyes were lost in the stars as her mother stood behind her and brushed her long hair. This was a ritual they did every night, and Taryn used this time to bond with her daughter.

“Breeze, what’s wrong, baby? Lately you haven’t been saying much,” Taryn said as she continued to stroke her daughter’s hair.

Breeze took her time before she spoke. Her father had taught her to always think about what to say before saying it. “I just miss back home. I don’t like it out here. None of my friends are out here. I hate it in South Beach, Mommy.” Breeze’s eyes got teary.

“I know it’s hard to cope with the sudden change, Breeze, but your father is a very important man, and it wasn’t safe for us to stay in Dade. He did what was best for the family,” Taryn answered, knowing exactly how Breeze felt. She herself had been a daughter of a kingpin, so she knew what it was like to be sheltered because of a father’s notoriety.

“I just don’t get it. Everybody loved Poppa in the old neighborhood. Why would we have to move?”

When it came to his baby girl, Carter held back nothing. He answered any question she asked him truthfully, wanting to give her the game, so another boy couldn’t game her. She knew her father was a drug dealer, but in her eyes he was the greatest man to walk the earth. She saw how he treated her mother with respect at all times. She witnessed him put his family before himself countless times and admired that. She wanted her husband to be just like her daddy.

“I know exactly how you feel. You’re too young to understand right now, Breeze. Just be grateful that you have all of this. Most women will go through their whole life and never have the things you already have.”

I understand. I know what’s going on. I know Daddy is the dopeman. I know more than you think I know. Breeze went into her room and flopped down on her canopy-style bed. Tears rolled down her cheek as she curled up on her pillow. She missed her old home so badly. She just wanted to be a regular around-the-way girl.

Taryn, her white silk Dolce and Gabbana nightgown dragging on the floor as she went to her daughter’s side, slowly entered the room and saw that the sudden change really was bothering her only daughter. She sat on the bed and began to rub Breeze’s back. “I know exactly how you feel, Breeze. I remember when I was your age and was going through the same dilemma. My father, your grandfather, was an important man also. I had it much worse. It took the murder of your uncle for my father to move out the hood. Your father is just being cautious. If anything ever happened to you or your brothers, our hearts would break. He’s just protecting you.” Taryn reminisced about her deceased brother, who died when she was only ten. He was only fifteen years old when he was kidnapped and killed while her father was in a drug war.

“I know that we have to live like this, but it’s just not fair. I feel like I don’t belong here. All the girls at school look at me funny because I’m mixed, and they whisper bad things about me. I try to ignore them, but it still hurts my feelings.”

“Girl, females are going to hate, regardless. That’s how you know you’re that bitch.” Taryn smiled and squinted her nose.

Breeze couldn’t help smiling at her mother’s comment. She looked at how beautiful her mother was, and her comment made her look at things differently. Maybe they do look at me enviously, she thought.

Before Breeze could say anything in response, Carter cleared his throat, startling them. He looked at how gorgeous the two main women in his life were. He suavely leaned against the doorway with his arms folded. “What are you guys smiling at?” He walked toward them.

“Nothing, baby.” Taryn smiled and winked at Breeze. “Just girl stuff.”

Carter bent over and kissed Taryn and then kissed Breeze on top of the head.

Taryn knew that Carter had come to tuck Breeze in, as he did every night, and decided to leave them alone. “I’ll be in bed,” she whispered to him. “Goodnight, baby,” she said to Breeze as she tapped her leg. “I love you.”

“I love you too, Mommy.”

Taryn strolled out of the room, her stilettos clicking against the marble floor as she made her way out. Taryn would never get caught without her heels on. Nightgown and all, she always looked the part, playing her role as the queen of her husband’s empire. She was wifey, there was no doubt about that.

Carter stared at his wife as she walked away and then turned his attention back to Breeze. “Hey, baby girl.” He sat next to her.

“Hey, Poppa.” Breeze sat up and focused on her father.

“How was school today?” Carter asked as he rubbed her hair.

“It was okay, I guess.”

“Breeze, you know I know when you’re lying. Tell Poppa what’s going on.”

“I just miss my friends. The people at my school are so funny-acting. I wish we could move back home.” Breeze dropped her head.

Carter placed his finger under her chin and slowly raised her head. He looked into his daughter’s green eyes and smiled. “Baby girl, don’t worry about that. Everything takes time. They will come around eventually. I tell you what”—Carter stood up and smoothly put his hands in his $400 Armani slacks—“Why don’t you call up some of your friends and tell them you’re having a sleepover. You can invite as many of them as you want. I’ll have a limo pick up each girl. Would you like that?”

Breeze’s eyes lit up, and she gave him the biggest smile ever. “Yes! Thank you, Poppa,” she said as she leapt into her arms.

Carter had promised himself that he wouldn’t let outsiders enter his new home, but he had a weak spot for Breeze. She was his only daughter, and he spoiled her more than he did his twin boys.

“What about boys?” Breeze looked at her father. “Can I invite them too?”

His smile quickly turned into a frown as he looked at Breeze like she was insane.

“Gotcha!” she said as she broke out into laughter.

“Baby, don’t do that,” he said, joining her in laughter. “You almost gave this old man a heart attack.” Although Breeze was joking around, he knew that the day when she would be serious was soon to come. A day that he would dread.

Polo took a deep breath as he pulled into the South Beach, one of the many suburbs of Miami. As he looked around at the perfectly landscaped lawns and the children playing carelessly in the streets, he realized why Carter had moved his family so far away from the hood. With its gated community and million-dollar structures, it seemed as if it were a million miles away from the grit of the ghetto. Carter, positive that the upscale environment of South Beach would protect his household from the harsh reality that the street life had to offer, had told him that the move would be good for his family, but he was wrong. Now Polo was forced to bury his man.

Polo and Carter had known each other since they were young and hardheaded coming up in the trenches of Dade County. They quickly formed a brotherly bond as they took over the streets and inevitably entered the drug game. The Cartel was what they were labeled, a notorious, criminal-minded organization that was willing to stay on top by any means necessary. Carter and Polo had put in work for many years and worked hard to surround themselves with thoroughbreds that respected the hustle of the streets as much as they did. They earned money, power, and respect.

That is, until the Haitians from Little Haiti discovered the money that was being made and tried to muscle them out of town.

Carter’s demise proved to Polo that the Haitians weren’t to be taken lightly. He just hated that it took the death of their leader to figure that out. Nobody was untouchable. Now he had a nagging pain in his heart, and the stress of retaliation on his brain, but he knew that his hurt didn’t compare to that of Carter’s family.

When he pulled into the driveway to the ten-room, 7,000 square foot home, he prepared himself for the heartache that he was about to encounter. Polo personally made sure that Carter’s wife and children were taken care of. He knew that they would be okay financially, but he was determined to ensure their safety. No expense was spared when it came to the security of their family. There were about ten armed henchmen stationed outside of the house, and he acknowledged them with a nod as he passed by and walked into the Diamond home.

“Unc Po.” Mecca slapped hands with his father’s best friend.

Polo could tell that Carter’s death was weighing heavily on his heart by the sad look in Mecca’s eyes. Polo then turned to Monroe and pulled him near as well. He held them close, his arms wrapped around their shoulders. All three men had their heads down.

Polo told them, “I know it doesn’t feel like it right now, but it’s gon’ be all right, you hear me?”

Tears formed in Money’s eyes. He nodded his head, praying that his Uncle Polo was right.

Polo whispered in their ears, “You both have to be strong for your mother and Breeze. This is gon’ hit them the hardest. You know how protective your father was of them. It’s time to step up to the plate, twins. You got to pull your family back together.”

Both boys nodded in agreement as they quickly wiped the tears from the eyes. Having been trained by their father to never show emotion, they knew that to cry was to show weakness,

“Where are your mother and sister?”

“They’re still upstairs,” Money stated.

Polo ascended the steps two at a time. He approached the bodyguard that he had hired to stand by Taryn’s side. “Fuck you doing?” he whispered harshly.

The bodyguard quickly snapped his cell phone shut, but before he could put it safely in his pocket, Polo slapped it out of his hands.

“Do I fucking pay you to talk on your cell phone?” Polo pointed his finger in the man’s face. It didn’t matter that he was only five foot eight, and that the bodyguard was 270 pounds of pure muscle. “How the fuck you supposed to protect anybody when you’re focused on your fuckin’ phone? As a matter of fact, get your ass out of here. Put somebody on this job that want to make this money, you pussy!”

The man didn’t even protest as Polo lifted his Steve Madden and kicked him in the ass toward the staircase. He looked over the landing and yelled, “Mecca, show that mu’fucka the door and bring one of them niggas up that take this shit seriously.” Polo fixed his clothes and wiped himself down before he knocked lightly on Taryn’s door.

“Come in,” she called out. “It’s open.”

Taryn looked as beautiful as ever standing in front of the full-length mirror in her white-on-white Dolce suit that fit nicely around her slim frame, the skirt stopping directly below her knee and hugging her womanly shape. Her neck was framed with rare black pearls that matched the pearl set that clung to her ears. Her long, layered hair was pulled back into a sophisticated bun. She spared herself of applying makeup because she knew that eventually her tears would ruin it anyway. Her natural beauty was enough to take Ms. America’s crown, and her Dominican features made her look more like a mature model than a mother of three.

“Taryn, it’s time to go,” Polo stated as he stood in her doorway.

She nodded her head and closed her eyes as she said a silent prayer to God. Please give me the strength to get through this for my children. They are all that I have left. Take my husband into grace and take care of him until we meet again. “Okay, let’s go,” she said, trying to hide the shakiness in her voice.

She walked out of the room and down the hallway to her daughter’s room. “Breeze,” she said as she opened the door. “It’s time.”

“I don’t think that I can do this,” Breeze st