Chapter Twenty Eight: Stains
The engine ticked softly as Malik turned it off. The night had gone quiet again, like nothing had happened. But the inside of his car told a different story. Dark stains marked the passenger seat. Blood. Dre’s blood. Malik sat there for a moment, staring at it, his jaw tight. The events of the alley replayed in flashes—shouting, chaos, the smell of danger. He exhaled slowly. “This ain’t supposed to follow me here…” he muttered. He stepped out of the car and quietly opened the back door, grabbing an old rag and a bottle of water. He moved quickly, glancing around the street to make sure no one was watching. Then he started scrubbing. The stain didn’t come off easily. It spread first. That made it worse. “Damn…” Malik whispered under his breath, scrubbing harder. The porch lig
- Writer
