Doman’s POV

The smell of gasoline and cheap tobacco clung to the cracked sidewalks of the hood as I stepped out of my car. It had been years since I set foot here. Eyes followed me from doorways, some curious, some suspicious.

“Hey, man. What’s up? We haven’t seen you in the hood for some time. Fill me in.” Michael, my oldest friend, ambled over with his familiar swagger, his grin wide.

I forced a smile that felt more like a mask. “I’ve been busy with some things. Very important ...