The crowd bursts into chaos, but not the kind that screams but it fractures. Glass breaks somewhere behind me. A woman sobs and a man yells something about security. Chairs screech and shoes stumble. Blood pools around the girl.
Everything spins around the nucleus of a dead girl and a carving knife.
I can’t feel my legs. I can’t feel anything.
The numbness sets in like ice through my veins, cold and slowly setting in my bones as if it resides there. The music died but the noise is louder than anything I’ve ever heard.
“MOVE! Clear the damn space!” That’s Papa’s voice. He’s yelling at the guards. Red-faced men with comms in their ears rush forward, but they’re already too late. The damage is done. The air already smells like panic and blood.
Baboo’s arm finds me before I register I’m e
