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know was that the real reason Dinette isolated Brownie was because last month, Dinette came home early. When she walked down the hallway she heard a lot of panting and moaning. Opening the bathroom door, her heart sank when she saw her husband, Tommy, bent over on the bathroom sink as Ashur put dick to ass. Although Dinette never said a word, for fear of what Ashur might do, she also never forgot.
    “Ashur, that shit will never happen again. Trust me, I learned my lesson.” She paused, thinking about all the nights she and Dinette talked about life, only for her to cut her off.
    “Good, because none of them bitches in that building are our friends.” He looked into her eyes before focusing back on the road. “You hear what I’m saying? In this car right here is where it’s at. I’m the only friend you need.”
    As Farah’s parents spoke among themselves, she thought about her mother’s recollection of the events behind the school. Although Mia and Brownie held his arms, it was she who had kicked him between the legs. To some it may have been irrelevant, but Farah needed all of the credit she could get since she was already an outsider. “Daddy ...” she said in a low voice. Mia was on her left and Shadow was on her right. “Daddy ...” she said again. At first Ashur didn’t hear her. So she spoke louder. “Daddy!”
    Ashur turned the music down and said, “Is that my red baby calling me?” He looked at her face in the rearview mirror.
    “Yes, Daddy.” She smiled, circling the top of her soda can with her finger.
    “What’s up, baby?”
    “Mamma got it wrong.” She swallowed. “About what happened behind the school. I’m the one who kicked Theo in the dick.”
    Brownie turned around, reached into the back, and slapped her in the face. All five of her fingers immediately showed upon her red skin. “Fuck you lie on me like that for?” She pointed. “That’s your problem, you’re too fucking grown!”
    The moment she drew her hand back, Ashur grabbed Brownie’s throat so hard, she thought her windpipe was going to flatten. With one hand on the steering wheel and the other on her neck, he pulled over to the side of the road and parked his old Lincoln.
    With her throat still in his grasp, he pointed the finger on his other hand in her face. “Listen here, bitch, you may be tough out there in them streets, and I don’t doubt it one bit, but I better never see you hit one of my kids like that again.” He squeezed tighter, and a tear rolled down her face. “You hear me, black bitch?” She nodded and he released his hold.
    Brownie rubbed her neck and sat angrily in the seat with her arms folded over her breasts. It was bad enough that she was cursed with a child the same complexion of the people she hated most. To make matters worse, her own husband wouldn’t allow her to discipline her kids like she saw fit. No worries though, she would simply wait until he was out on one of his drunken binges with his friends. And when that happened, she’d give Farah exactly what she deserved.

Chapter 2
     
“You gotta learn that you are blessed because of your complexion, Farah. And you gotta know some folks might resent you for it, too.
—Grandma Elise
     
     
     
    The sun was brighter than ever when Farah woke up to the smells of her grandmother’s fried chicken. She knew without asking that they were having some kind of party later on that day and she couldn’t wait to entertain company. Today was a better day because she wasn’t as sick as she normally was, and the weather wasn’t as hot. If her mother wasn’t still angry, she hoped she’d allow her outside so that she could scratch a hopscotch board on the ground, in the hopes of luring new playmates. Friendless and lonely, Farah looked for small ways to entertain herself. Her siblings, who were not as sickly, had friends and lives of their own, so Farah was normally confined to the bed at home.
    When she tried to move out of the full-sized bed,