TUESDAY JONES
He'd given his youngest sister the new phone number yesterday, telling her to only call it if it was an emergency.
"Jeremy. He...hurt me. Bad. I didn't have the money."
He flinched. He'd promised her the money, but he wanted to earn it from Miss M. Guilt twisted through him...he'd put his pride before his sister's life. "Where's Momma?"
"I don't know. She washed her hands of me, Tuesday. You're the only one who loves me. You're the only one who wants to help."
Tuesday grimaced. His mother took the "tough love" concept to new levels. No child who did drugs, had premarital sex, joined gangs, or disrespected her, stayed under her roof. He'd bailed at age sixteen, dropping out of high school and earning money any way he could. If his sister had gone to Momma, the woman would've said, "Help your ownself, child."
"Where are you?"
"I'm here. Right here. Where I always am. Where are you?" She sounded exhausted.
