Baltimore don't sleep — it just tosses and turns.
Jaylen cracked open the rusted door of the rowhouse and stepped out like a ghost. Hood up, head low, he hit the sidewalk slow, blending in with the silence. The air was thick with frost, but colder still was the way folks looked away when they passed him — like he was a shadow they'd rather forget.
He lit a cigarette with shaking fingers, more from memory than need.
Across the street, old Miss Laverne was already screaming at her grandkid, her voice sharp like broken glass. Two blocks down, a squad car rolled by with its lights off — just watching. Just waiting.
Jaylen felt it all.
Felt too damn much.
"Yo, Jay!"
A voice cracked through the air like a busted speaker. It was Darnell, riding up on a busted-ass BMX with one hand on the bars, the other clutching a bag of chips like it was gold.
"Where you been, man? Thought you dropped off the map."
Jaylen gave a half-shrug. "Nah. Just been… thinkin'."
"Thinkin' don't pay rent," Darnell muttered, hopping off the bike. "You still out for that job at Porter's?"
"Didn't call back."
"Did you call them back?
Jaylen stayed quiet.
They walked side by side, not saying much. That was the thing about boys from the block — sometimes the silence said more than the words.
They passed the corner where Malik got shot. Jaylen's jaw clenched.
Same block. Same faces. But something inside him had shifted since that night. Something broke loose. The kind of break you don't fix with glue.
As they reached the liquor store, Darnell peeled off. Jaylen stayed posted on the corner, watching the city breathe in and out like a tired giant. Sirens. Dogs barking. Glass breaking. It was the symphony of the streets.
Then a car pulled up. Tinted windows. Slow roll.
Jaylen's hand went to his waist — not for a weapon, just instinct.
The window rolled down
"Jaylen Fields?"
Voice calm. Male. Not a cop.
"Who's askin'?"
The man smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes.
"Someone who knows you ain't supposed to be broke… or forgotten."
Jaylen frowned. "Yo, you got thirty seconds before I walk."
"Fair. Then let's make it count," the man said. "You want revenge? You want the truth about what happened to your brother?"
Jaylen froze.
The man tossed something out the window. It hit the sidewalk with a soft clink — a silver flash drive.
"Then come find me," he said. And the car peeled off.
Jaylen stared down at the drive.
And for the first time in months, his hands weren't shaking from the cold.
End of Chapter One