…
Tona sighed, tucking the photograph back into her pocket.
It was time to get back to work.
Her shift would end at 16:00, and then another visit to a new patient awaited her.
Emma, the head nurse, approached her as she was filling out Mrs.
Johnson’s chart.
Tash, I have a favor to ask of you.
We need to send someone to see a new client, Mr. Harris.
He’s in the home care program.
Recently had hip surgery.
lives in a new neighborhood, Riverside Estates.
Can you go? Tona nodded.
Extra hours meant extra money, and she always needed it.
The address is Oak Street, number 32.
Here’s a map with appointments.
Emma handed her a folder.
Be there by 17:30.
Finishing her shift, Tona walked out of the nursing home building and headed for the bus stop.
She had a transfer to make to get to Riverside Estates, a new neighborhood for the well-off with large houses and manicured lawns.
The neighborhood was exactly as she’d imagined.
Clean streets, neat houses, expensive cars in the driveways, a life that was beyond her reach.
Tashona walked down Oak Street, checking the address on her phone.
House number 32 turned out to be a one-story structure with a white facade and large windows.
A black SUV was parked in the driveway.
She was almost to the house when she noticed a man coming out of the neighboring house.
Something about his gate seemed familiar to her.
Tona slowed her step.
The man turned to close the door and she saw his profile.
Tishona’s heart skipped a beat.
This was impossible.
Absolutely impossible.
But the man was the spitting image of Damonteus.
the same tall figure, the same broad shoulders, the same distinctive tilt of his head.
He was dressed in an expensive shirt and pants looking well-groomed and respectable, but it was definitely him or an exact replica of him.
Tona froze in place, unable to move, the man got into a silver sedan and pulled out of the driveway.
He drove past her without noticing, and Tishona could see his face clearly.
Dimontius.
It was Dimontius.
her husband, who was supposed to be in prison in Louisiana.
Before she could consider her actions, Tona was already running after the departing car.
But the car quickly disappeared around the corner.
Tona stopped, breathing heavily.
She had to make sure, had to find out what was going on.
She walked back toward the house the man had come out of.
It was house number 34, a beautiful one-story structure with a well-kept garden.
The mailbox said Thompson on it.
Tashona walked closer to the house and peered through the window.
In the living room, she saw a woman holding a small child in her arms.
Young, beautiful, with long braids braided into an elaborate hairstyle.
Tona’s mind was in chaos.
What was going on? How could Damontius be here and not in prison? And who was the woman with the baby? Suddenly, the front door opened and the very woman with the child appeared on the doorstep.
Can I help you? She asked, frowning.
Tona stepped back.
I uh Excuse me.
I’m looking for house number 32, Mr. Harris’s.
Ah, that’s across the street, the woman pointed to the house across the street.
Thank you, Tona muttered and quickly stepped back.
She had to muster all her willpower to make it to Mr. Harris’s house and work the allotted time.
All she could think about was Dementius or a man who looked incredibly like him living in this wealthy neighborhood with another woman and a child.
Finished with Mr. Harris, Tona immediately hurried home.
In her small apartment that she rented in the old San Marcos neighborhood, she immediately pulled out her phone and dialed the number for Oakdale Federal Prison.
After a few beeps, a tired male voice answered her.
Oakdale Federal Prison, how may I help you? Hello.
I’d like to inquire about an inmate, Deontius Butler.
I’m his wife, Tashona Butler.
A pause followed.
The sound of typing on a keyboard.
Yes, Demente Butler is in our custody, serving a 15-year sentence for armed robbery.
What exactly did you want to know? Tosona felt the ground go from under her feet.
Is he Is he there right now? Is he physically in prison? Of course, ma’am.
All the prisoners are physically here except for those on sick leave or in isolation.
And Demon Tea, he’s not in the hospital, not transferred to another prison.
No, ma’am.
According to our records, inmate Butler is in cell block C.
If you’d like to visit him, you’ll need to make an appointment.
Tona thanked the clerk and hung up.
She sat on the edge of the bed trying to comprehend the situation.
Damonteas was officially listed as a prisoner, but she had seen him or someone indistinguishable from him with her own eyes in Riverside Estates.
How is that possible? Maybe she’s hallucinating.
Maybe she misses her husband so much that she sees him in random passers by, but no, she was sure it was Damontius or his perfect double.
Tona stood up, walked over to the dresser, and opened the top drawer.
There under a stack of linens was a box of letters from Deontius.
She pulled out the last one dated last month.
In it, Demente wrote about prison life, how he missed her, that he hoped to be released on parole in a few years for good behavior.
She reread the letter several times, studying every word, every letter.
Then she pulled out the picture Damontius had sent her last year.
He was in his prison uniform, a little thinner with a short haircut, but the same wide smile.
it was the same man she’d seen today or a perfect replica of him.
Tona spent a sleepless night turning from side to side, thoughts swirling in her head, keeping her awake.
In the morning, she decided she had to get to the bottom of this situation.
Must find out who this man was and why he looked exactly like her husband.
Tona awoke at first light, though her alarm clock wasn’t due to ring until an hour later.
Sleep brought no rest.
All night she dreamed of Damonteus.
But in those dreams, he didn’t recognize her.
Passing by holding the hand of another woman and a child over a cup of strong coffee, she made a decision.
Today was her day off, and she would use it to go back to Riverside Estates and find out the truth.
Tosona called the nursing home and said she was sick.
The guilt of lying was nothing compared to the need to find out what was going on.
She put on her best jeans and a light blue blouse, clothes she usually saved for the rare visits with Damontius in prison.
She stared at her reflection in the mirror for a long time.
Tired eyes, dark circles under them, but still a beautiful face with high cheekbones, and full lips.
Damontius had always said he’d fallen in love with her at first sight because of those lips.
The two buses took almost an hour to get to Riverside Estates.
The whole time, Tishona was running through her head of possible explanations for what she had seen yesterday.
Maybe Damontius had a twin brother he’d never mentioned.
But no, she knew her husband’s family, his mother and sister.
He had no other close relatives.
Maybe it’s just an uncanny resemblance.
But then why was this man living in her town? As if he’d shown up here on purpose while Damontius was serving time.
Getting off at the right stop, Tona headed toward house number 34 on Oak Street.
There was no silver sedan in the driveway.
A good sign.
Perhaps the man had left for work, but she didn’t know what to do next.
Just knock on the door and ask the young woman who her husband was.
Tona stopped in front of the house, pretending to study the map on her phone.
She noticed the front door open, and the same woman with a baby came out of the house.
The baby, who looked to be no more than a year old, sat in her arms, dressed in a brightly colored jumpsuit.
The woman locked the door, walked down the steps, and headed down the sidewalk toward the park, visible at the end of the street.
This was a chance.
Tona decided to follow at a distance, hoping to hear something useful or wait for the man to return.
In the park, a woman placed a child on a swing and began to rock him, humming something.
Tishona sat on a bench nearby, pretending to read a book on her phone, but keeping her eyes on the couple.
Nearly an hour later, when Tishona was beginning to doubt her plan, he walked into the park, a man who looked exactly like Damontius.
He was dressed in a dark blue suit and looked like a successful businessman.
As he approached the woman and child, he kissed them both, and the three of them headed for the exit of the park.
Tona’s heart was pounding so hard that it seemed its pounding could be heard throughout the park.
She stood up and followed them, keeping a safe distance.
The family walked back to house number 34.
Tona stopped at the street corner, unsure of what to do next.
Suddenly, determination gripped her.
She will wait until the woman and child are out of the house again, and then she will talk to this man face to face.
She wanted answers and she would get them.
The wait didn’t take long.
After about half an hour, the woman came out of the house with a large bag over her shoulder and a baby in her arms.
She got into a cab that pulled up in front of the house and drove away.
The man was left alone.
Tona waited another 10 minutes, gathering her wits, then walked determinedly toward the house and rang the doorbell.
Her heart was pounding so hard she thought it was about to jump out of her chest.
The door opened and there he stood before her looking like Damonteus, only better dressed than her husband could ever afford and with a short haircut instead of the dreadlocks Damontius had worn before his arrest.
The man stared at her with an expression of shock on his face.
He clearly recognized her.
Tona, he said, and even his voice was exactly like Damonteas’s, deep with a slight horarsseness.
Who are you? She asked bluntly, crossing her arms over her chest.
Because you’re definitely not my husband.
Dement Tay Butler is sitting in Oakdale Federal Prison, and I confirmed that personally yesterday.
The man looked around as if checking to see if anyone could hear them, then grabbed Tona’s arm and pulled her into the house, slamming the door behind her.
“What the hell are you doing here?” he hissed, fear read in his eyes.
“I asked the question first,” Tishona pulled her hand out of his grip.
“Who are you, and why do you look exactly like my husband?” The man ran his hand over his face, clearly nervous.
“Shit, This wasn’t supposed to happen.
You weren’t supposed to see me.
Answer me, Tona demanded.
And there was such steel in her voice that the man took a step back.
All right.
All right.
He held up his hands in a consiliatory gesture.
I’m Ezekiel Jackson.
People call me Zeke.
I uh I’m Damonteius’s cousin.
Tona frowned.
Damonteas never mentioned a cousin.
Not surprising.
Zeke grinned.
We didn’t really get along as kids.
I moved with my parents to Atlanta when I was 10.
Damontius and I hadn’t seen each other in years until that robbery incident.
What incident? Tona tensed.
Zeke hesitated, but then sighed.
Look, let’s sit down.
It’s a long story.
They walked to the living room, a lavishly furnished room with a large leather couch and panoramic windows.
Tona remained standing, unwilling to give even the appearance of friendly conversation.
“I moved back to San Marcos 6 years ago,” Zeke began.
I had trouble in Atlanta.
Trouble with the law.
I need to disappear.
Make a fresh start.
Demente helped me.
Damontius helped you.
Tishona interjected incredulously.
Yes.
He’s always been soft-hearted.
You know that? I stayed with you for a few days.
Remember? You were working the night shift.
Then Tona vaguely remembered.
Indeed, there had been some Damontius relative who had stayed with them briefly.
She had hardly seen him because of her schedule.
Damontius and I came up with a plan to rob a gas station.
A simple plan.
Go in, take the money, get out.
No one had to get hurt.
Tona felt the ground go from under her feet.
What? Dement Taye would never would never go on a robbery spree.
Zeke finished for her.
That’s right.
That’s why he didn’t go.
I did wearing the mask.
But something went wrong.
A guard spotted me.
A fight broke out.
Zeke was quiet.
Anyway, I panicked and ran away.
And the next day, the cops came to you because my face was on the security cameras.
The face they mistook for Damontius’s face.
Tona felt the room begin to spin around her.
She sank down onto the couch, unable to stand.
Are you telling me that my husband is in prison for a crime you committed? Zeke nodded, avoiding her gaze.
He took the blame.
Said, “I already had a criminal record, and if I got caught again, I’d get life.
” And he had a clean record.
He could have gotten off with a lesser sentence.
15 years.
Tona jumped to her feet.
He got 15 years because of you.
I know.
Zeke held up his hands.
I know, and I feel terrible about it.
But I promised him I’d take care of you, his mother.
Take care.
Tona laughed a bitter laugh.
You disappeared.
I haven’t seen you in all these years.
His mother died of cancer, and I’m barely making ends meet working two jobs.
Zeke lowered his head.
I know.
I chickenened out, afraid the cops would find out the truth after all.
Went to Houston, then Dallas.
I didn’t get back to San Marcos till a year ago.
By then, I’d met Sheniqua.
We were having a baby.
And you introduced yourself to her as Deontius, Tona guessed.
Yes, Zeke admitted.
Yeah, I used his name to get a job.
With my past, they wouldn’t have gotten me anywhere.
But with Damontius’s clean history, you’re welcome.
I work at a bank in the loan department.
Good job, good pay.
You stole not only my husband’s freedom, but his identity as well.
Tona looked at Zeke with such contempt that he stepped back involuntarily.
Look, Tona, I understand you’re angry.
Angry? She almost shouted.
I’m furious.
You ruined our lives and now you’re living in this beautiful house with a new family under my husband’s name while he rots in jail.
Zeke’s face suddenly changed.
The expression of remorse was gone, replaced by a cold, calculating expression.
What are you going to do to Shona? He asked quietly.
Go to the police and what are you going to tell them? That your husband is innocent because his cousin who looks just like him did it? Do you have proof? number.
There is only my word against his confession in court.
Tona froze, realizing the rightness of his words.
She really didn’t have any proof, but I can tell your wife, she said.
Tell her you’re not who you say you are.
Zeke’s face contorted into a grimace of anger.
He took a step toward Tona and she instinctively backed away.
Don’t you dare even come near Sheniqua, he hissed.
If you ruin my life, I will ruin yours.
Do you think Damontius has a good life in prison? I can make it much worse for him.
I have connections.
Are you threatening me? I’m warning you.
Zeke pulled his cell phone out of his pocket.
Look.
He showed her a picture demente in the prison cafeteria sitting at a table with other inmates.
Where did you get this? Tona asked.
I have a friend who works as a guard at Oakdale.
Zeke replied.
He’s keeping an eye on Deontius in a friendly way for now, but that could change.
Tona felt everything inside her grow cold with fear.
You wouldn’t dare.
Don’t test me.
Zeke put the phone away.
Just forget you ever saw me, Tona.
Go back to your life and I’ll go back to mine.
Everyone will be better off.
Better? Tona shook her head.
My husband is in prison for a crime he didn’t commit, and you’re enjoying life under his name.
How is that better? Deontius made his own choice, Zeke replied coldly.
He chose to protect me.
That was his decision.
Because he thought you were his brother, Tona exclaimed.
He trusted you and you.
She didn’t finish the sentence, too overwhelmed with anger and disgust.
Zeke stared at her in silence.
His face, so similar to Damontius’s, but with a completely different expression, was impenetrable.
Go away, he finally said, and don’t come back for Damontius’s sake, for your own good.
Toshona wanted to say something else, to express everything that had come to a boil, but realized the pointlessness of it.
Zeke had no remorse.
He was a sociopath who used his own brother and lived his life.
She turned and walked out of the house, slamming the door so hard the pains shook.
Outside, she inhaled deeply, trying to calm herself.
Thoughts raced frantically through her head.
What to do now? Zeke was right.
She had no proof of his guilt.
It’s word against word.
And if she went to the police, Damontius could get hurt.
But there was also Sheniqua.
A woman who’d lived in ignorance with a man impersonating another man.
She deserved to know the truth.
Tosona didn’t go to the bus stop.
Instead, she found a small cafe near the park and sat there ordering a cup of coffee.
She needed to think, to make a plan.
By late afternoon, she had made a decision.
She would wait for Sheniqua to return and talk to her, tell her the whole truth about the man she had married, and then then we’ll see.
Tona returned to house number 34 as it began to get dark.
Zeke’s silver sedan was still in the driveway, which meant he was home.
She hid behind the big oak tree across the street, watching the house and waiting for Sheniqua to return.
An hour passed, then a second.
The street was deserted.
Lights on in the houses.
There were lights on in Zeke’s house, too, in the living room and I think in one of the bedrooms.
Finally, around 9:00 pm, a cab pulled up in front of the house.
Shenika got out of it with her baby in her arms.
The baby sleeping with his head resting on her shoulder.
She paid the driver and headed towards the house.
Tona waited until Shenika walked up the steps and opened the door.
She saw the woman step inside and at that moment she decided to act.
Now was the perfect moment to talk while the baby slept.
But no sooner had Tona crossed the street than a woman’s piercing scream came from inside the house.
The sound was so desperate and full of terror that Tishona froze in place.
A moment later, the scream was repeated, even louder and more desperate.
Something was wrong.
Tishona rushed toward the house, forgetting caution.
The front door was left open.
Shenikica must not have closed it in time.
From deep inside the house came sobs and intermittent screams.
Tishona ran inside and following the sound found herself in the kitchen.
There she saw a horrifying scene.
Sheniqua was standing against the wall, one hand holding the waking and crying child tightly, the other covering her mouth from which she burst out in suppressed sobs.
And on the floor, in a pool of blood, lay Zeke, with his lifeless eyes open and a gunshot wound in his chest.
The red and blue lights of police cars flooded the quiet street of Riverside Estates.
Neighbors in bathroes and pajamas stood on their lawns, whispering and watching anxiously.
House number 34 on Oak Street was cordoned off with yellow police tape.
Uniformed officers and forensics officers in white jumpsuits scurrying around.
Tosona sat in the back seat of the police car with her arms wrapped around herself.
She wasn’t handcuffed yet, but the officer had asked her to stay put until the detective arrived.
In a neighboring car sat Sheniqua, still in shock, with her baby in her arms.
A social worker tried to talk her into giving the baby to a relative, but she refused, cradling him tightly in her arms.
An unmarked black SUV pulled up to the curb, and a tall woman in an austere suit got out.
She surveyed the scene, spoke briefly with the officers, then walked toward the car where Tashona sat.
Detective Lakesha Murdoch homicide.
She introduced herself as she opened the door and sat down next to Tona.
She had a stern face with high cheekbones and shrewd eyes that seemed to see right through a person.
“And you are,” Tishona Butler, “I presume?” Tishona nodded, trying to quiet the trembling in her hands.
“I didn’t kill him,” she said quietly.
“That’s what we’re trying to find out,” Murdoch replied, pulling out a small notebook.
“Tell me what happened from the beginning.
” Tona took a deep breath and began to recount how she saw a man who looked like her husband.
How she found out it was Ezekiel Jackson, Deontius’s cousin.
How she learned of his deception and threats? The detective listened without interrupting, only occasionally making notes in her notebook.
So, you’re claiming that this man, Ezekiel Jackson, was impersonating your husband, who is now serving time in federal prison? Murdoch clarified when Tishona finished her story.
Yes, he confessed it to me this afternoon and threatened me if I told his wife or went to the police.
And what did you do after that meeting? I left, but then I decided to go back and tell Sheniqua everything.
I waited for her to come home.
When she arrived and entered the house, I heard her scream and ran inside.
That’s where I saw his body.
Murdoch studied Tishona’s face carefully, as if trying to determine if she was telling the truth.
“Do you have an alibi for the time between your leaving Jackson’s house and your return tonight?” Tona shook her head.
“I was at a coffee shop near the park, then I was just walking around the neighborhood thinking, I don’t think anyone can confirm that.
I see.
” Murdoch closed her notebook.
Ms.
Butler, I’m going to have to ask you to come with us to the station for further conversation.
Is that okay with you? It wasn’t a real question, and Tishona understood that.
Of course, she replied quietly.
At the police station, Tishona was led into a small interrogation room, gray walls, a metal table, two chairs, and a large mirror behind which she knew were other officers.
Detective Murdoch entered a few minutes later with a folder in her hands.
She sat down across from Tishona and laid several photos on the table.
Zeke lying in a pool of blood on the kitchen floor.
Ezekiel Jackson was shot in the chest at close range.
Preliminary time of death is between 17 and 1900 hours.
The weapon, a 38 caliber pistol, not found at the scene.
Tosona took her eyes off the photos.
I didn’t kill him, she repeated.
You had a motive, Miss Butler.
A strong motive.
This man, according to you, effectively stole your husband’s life.
Used his name while he was in prison.
Any woman in your position would have been furious.
Yes, I was furious, Tona agreed.
But I’m not a murderer.
I don’t even own a gun.
That’s easy to verify, Murdoch said.
We’ll test for gunpowder residue on your hands.
Do you agree? Sure.
Murdoch summoned an officer who took Tishona to another room for the test.
When they returned, Sheniqua was waiting in the interrogation room, pale with eyes reened with tears.
The baby was not with her.
“Miss Parker has agreed to speak to you in my presence,” Murdoch explained to Tishona.
“I think you two have much to discuss.
” Sheniqua looked at Tishona with a mixture of fear and incomprehension.
“You said he’s not Damontius, that his real name is Ezekiel?” Tona nodded.
My husband Damonteus Butler is incarcerated in Oakdale Federal Prison in Louisiana.
The man who lived with you is his cousin Ezekiel Jackson.
He used the name Damonteas to start a new life.
Sheniqua covered her face with her hands.
I didn’t know anything.
He said his family died in a car accident that he had no one.
He was lying.
Tona said softly.
I’m sorry.
Detective Murdoch watched the conversation between the two women with professional interest.
Miss Parker, when did you meet the man you knew as Deonteas? Two years ago in Dallas, Sheniqua replied, wiping away tears.
I was working as a waitress in a restaurant.
He was a customer.
Said he worked at a bank.
We started dating then got married.
When I got pregnant, we moved here to San Marcos.
Did he ever mention any problems about people who might wish him harm? Sheniqua hesitated.
He’s been tense lately.
Often talked on the phone and whispers when he thought I couldn’t hear.
Once I overheard part of a conversation, he was asking someone for an extension, saying he’d pay me back the money soon.
Money? Murdoch pitched forward.
Did he owe anyone? I don’t know.
Chenika shook her head.
He never told me about financial problems.
We always had plenty of money.
Murdoch made a note in her notebook.
Miss Parker, are you familiar with the name Leroy Turner? Sheniqua frowned.
No, I’ve never heard of it.
Have you, Miss Butler? Tona shook her head as well.
No.
Murdoch nodded as if she’d expected that answer.
Thank you for your cooperation, ladies.
Ms.
Butler, you’ll have to stay here a little longer.
Ms.
Parker, an officer will escort you out.
Sheniqua stood up, but turned to Tishona before leaving.
I’m sorry about your husband.
I really didn’t know.
Tona nodded.
I believe you.
After Chenica left, Tona was left alone in the interrogation room.
About an hour passed before the door opened again and Detective Murdoch walked in with another folder.
Good news, Miss Butler.
The gunpowder residue test came back negative.
Also, we got surveillance footage from the bank across the street from Jackson’s house.
At 17:35, the footage shows a gray sedan pull up to the house.
A man we’ve identified as Leroy Turner, a known San Antonio lender of questionable reputation, gets out.
He spends about 10 minutes in the house, then gets out and drives away.
That matches the estimated time of the murder.
Tona felt a huge weight fall from her shoulders.
So, I can go almost.
Murdoch opened the folder.
We ran a background check on Ezekiel Jackson.
He does have a criminal record in Atlanta for fraud and forgery and he is indeed your husband’s cousin.
We contacted Oakdale Prison and they confirmed that Demente Butler is in their custody.
I’ve requested a picture of him.
She placed the picture in front of Tishona.
Demente in a prison uniform with a license plate.
Is this your husband? Tona looked at the photo and nodded, feeling tears come to her eyes.
Yes, that’s him.
The resemblance to Jackson is really striking, Murdoch remarked.
But there’s something else that worries me.
The story that Jackson told you about your husband taking the blame for his crime.
We can’t verify it.
Demon Taye Butler confessed to the robbery.
All the evidence pointed to him.
But now you know Zeke was capable of the crime.
Tosona objected.
I know.
Murdoch agreed.
And I promise you that we will scrutinize this case thoroughly.
If there is evidence of your husband’s innocence, we will find it.
Thank you, Tona said quietly.
In the meantime, the detective closed the folder.
You’re free to go, Miss Butler, but don’t leave town.
You’re still a witness in a murder case.
Walking out of the police station, Tona took a deep breath of the cool night air.
It was well past midnight, but sleep would not come to her.
She took a cab to her apartment, feeling drained and exhausted by the day’s events.
In the days that followed, Tashona was in constant contact with Detective Murdoch, catching up on news of the investigation.
Leroy Turner was arrested in San Antonio and confessed to the murder of Ezekiel Jackson.
According to him, Zeke owed him a large sum of money and had continually delayed payment.
Turner came to collect the debt that day.
An argument ensued and he shot Zeke.
Even more important to Tishona was the fact that the police actually began to review Demente’s case.
Inconsistencies were found in witness statements, and most importantly, the fingerprints on the weapon used in the robbery did not completely match Deontas’s.
This revelation gave hope that his case might be reconsidered.
A week after the murder, Tona decided to take the step she had been putting off all these years, a trip to Oakdale Federal Prison.
She couldn’t wait any longer.
She needed to see Damontius to tell him everything that had happened.
The 9-hour bus ride was exhausting, but Tona barely noticed the fatigue.
Her mind raced with thoughts of the upcoming meeting, what she would say to her husband, how he would react to the news of Zeke’s death, and the possible review of his case.
Oakdale Prison was a complex of gray concrete buildings surrounded by a high barbed wire fence.
Toshona went through the check-in process, turned in her personal belongings, and was led to the visiting room, a large room with rows of tables where prisoners could meet with visitors under the supervision of guards.
She was sitting there nervously rubbing the sleeve of her blouse when the door on the opposite side of the room opened, and Damontius walked in.
He looked thinner than she remembered him with a short haircut instead of the dreadlocks he’d worn before his arrest.
But the smile, wide, genuine, was the same.
Tash.
He walked over to the table and hugged her as much as the rules allowed.
“It’s so good to see you.
” Tona hugged him back tightly, feeling a lump come up to her throat.
“Me too, D.
I have so much to tell you.
” They sat down across from each other and Damontius took her hands in his.
What’s wrong? You look worried.
Tishona took a deep breath and began to tell about seeing Zeke, about his confession, about the threats, and finally about his death.
Damontius listened with an expression of shock on his face.
“Ze dead?” he interjected when she finished.
“And he’s really been impersonating me all these years?” Yes.
Tosona nodded.
But there’s good news.
The police are reviewing your case.
Detective Murdoch found inconsistencies that may prove your innocence.
Damontius shook his head, trying to comprehend everything he’d heard.
I don’t know what to say.
I never thought Zeke would do something like this.
I thought I was helping him.
Did you really take the blame for his crime? Tosona asked quietly.
Damonte nodded.
Yes, he was desperate.
Said he was facing life in prison because of previous convictions.
Promised to take care of you, your mom.
He chuckled bitterly.
I was so naive.
No.
Tosona squeezed his hands.
You were kind.
Too kind for this world.
And where has that gotten me? Damontius looked around the prison room.
Home.
Tona said firmly.
You’ll be home soon.
I believe it.
Damontius looked at her with hope in his eyes.
You really think so? Yes.
Tishona smiled through her tears.
Murdoch promised to do her best.
And I won’t stop until I secure your release either.
At that moment, the guard announced that visiting time was ending.
Damontius and Tona stood up, hugging one last time.
“I love you, Tash,” he whispered in her ear.
“Always have.
” I love you too, she replied.
And I’ll wait no matter how long it takes.
As she left the prison, Tona felt a strange mixture of bitterness and hope in her heart.
The life she’d known had shattered in a single day.
But from the ruins, something new could be born.
Truth, justice, and perhaps a reunion with the man she’d never stopped loving.
She boarded the bus back to San Marcos with the firm intention of starting over.
The fight to free Damontius would be long and difficult, but now she had a goal worth living for.
And no matter the difficulties ahead, she knew she was no longer alone in her struggle.
