Starla's parents were murdered five years ago when she was thirteen. She testified in court against the man who committed the act, but the verdict was overthrown, and she was accused of not being a reliable witness. She stalks the murderer, ensuring that he doesn't commit the act again.
Black Friday brings people to the mall for the early Christmas shopping. The coffee is bitter, and the donuts are stale. A mom pulls her screaming toddler away from the play area. The Selfie Photo Booth is a teenage make-out spot. A regular customer sits at a corner table with his pants too low, exposing his butt crack, as I drive coffee, watching everything unfold.
The bitter cologne makes me nauseous as my enemy walks by. His tall stature, slim body, and handsome face would fool anyone. His friends call him Slim, but I know him by Bartolomeu Henderson. He is the man who murdered my parents five years ago when I was thirteen years old. The grand jury did not indict him based on the lack of evidence.