from Karma (Prologue: Evanne's Escape)
Evanne’s cares went flying out over her sunroof along with the clothes she grabbed from the open suitcase of her past. I am free, she thought, and the open road is exactly what I need right now. She put her left hand, which was filled with clothes, out of the opening and let them whip out as she drove across the beautiful California terrain.
As she let go of each article, she thought about the nine years of torment and torture Roger had placed upon her life. She let out the last piece of clothing in her hand: a green and black negligee that Roger had given her for her twenty-first birthday. Evanne felt the wind beat her light caramel brown hand as she let out a relieved sigh.
“Never again, Evanne Holmes, never again,” she reassured herself.
She thought about her mother, and how good it would be to see her after all of these years. “How could I let that man forbid me from seeing my own mother,” she cringed. Just the thought of Roger made her want to break something or cut something up. The only comfort she found from ever being with Roger was the fat settlement she got and would continue to get from the prenup she agreed to sign. Thank you Roger for being such a lying sneak. She bit her lip. Never again.
Evanne continued her cleansing ritual until the suitcase was empty. She looked around and realized that she had reached the city of her birth.
“Damn, L.A. sure has changed,” she said aloud.
Before she left, almost twelve years ago, Los Angeles was the place where everything came to die: movie stars, aspirations, hopes and dreams, just everything. Evanne lived in what was at the time one of the only good safe places that was left in this God forsaken city.
She, her mother and her two sisters lived in Ladera Heights, the only wealthy, all black city left after the war. The only black city for miles. Most families couldn’t wish for anything better than that. Almost every black family she knew outside of Ladera was either practicing indentured servitude or so deep in debt that they were on there way to it. And there was no getting out of it once you got in. You were in debt until the day you die.
Evanne drove through the ally ways just to make sure everything was safe. She still worried that things hadn’t changed since she left in 2011; that the race rebellions were still in full force, so she drove cautiously down the streets she remembered were only reserved for whites. She thought of the stories of peace her mother would tell her in the years before the race rebellions and of the violence that had erupted just outside of her town when the United States had elected the first known African American president in history and she shivered all the way down to her bones.
As she reached the compound wall that enveloped Ladera Heights her thoughts turned back to her mother. She scrounged around for the key card that her mother sent her to insert into the entrance slot. As she reached her mother’s home however, she encountered a scene that would send a shockwave through her harder than any racial war ever could.
Evanne pulled up to her mother’s house and saw a hoard of police cars surrounding it. Her mother was bruised and bloody on the sidewalk with officers surrounding her in a circle. There were papers on the lawn and flying in the air. Evanne did her best to hold her composure as she stepped out of her car.
“If you tell us what we want to know Miss Henry, we will leave you alone and let you back into your house,” one blue-eyed officer said as Evanne stepped toward her mother. As she approached, another officer ran toward her.
“Hold on there girl,” the officer warned as he grabbed her on the shoulder, “Who are you and what are you doing here?”
“My name is Evanne Holmes and I’m her daughter.”
“Oh you’re Evanne Holmes,” the officer asked looking suspiciously.
Evanne gave the officer a blank stare “Did I stutter.”
Immediately, the officer began to unhitch the handcuffs from his belt. He cuffed Evanne and read her Miranda rights as he led her to his black and white car.
The officer then called to the others standing around Evanne’s mother. “I’ve got her, there is nothing else we need from this one,” he shouted.
“What is this about,” Evanne yelled
“You are under arrest for the murder of Roger Holmes.”
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