FLASHBACK (Derrick's Letter)...

Two weeks since I was placed under protective custody.

It was amazing how much can be done in so little time when it came to my criminal records being expunged and me now being exonerated. Thanks to the warden and Smitty, I was soon moved into a private residential area far out of the prying eyes and kept under watch thanks to the police. The home wasn't much, just some basic furniture, a television, the basic appliances for the kitchen. I got my groceries and toiletries delivered from a fresh-faced kid who knew the whole story while I wore hand-me-down civilian clothing.

But I still got the nightmares of being covered in Derrick's blood and having to face his ghost if he had died. At times, I would wake up screaming loud enough to wake up the guards. That led me to attend therapy sessions with a psychologist who was patient enough for me to tell my story yet insisted that I start opening up more about my past. And damn it to hell if Dr. Isabelle Montford didn't have me crying when I finally let the dam open when it came down to one secret that still left me guarded.

But that was for another time since I knew that it would still haunt me as long as Gerald Booker and his wife and daughter were alive. And I had a feeling that the trio would do whatever it took to ensure that the secret would remain in the dark. Because even though the charges placed against me were no longer voided and I was no longer in prison, that didn't mean that they wouldn't resort to lethal action.

All I could do was wait it out and ensure that I would finally get the justice I deserved. And if it meant leaving it up to the criminal justice system, so be it.

I was just done with the games.

**************

"Mail call, Oglethorpe!" I heard the voice of a beefy guard holler from outside.

"Come in," I hollered, placing the mop and bucket to the side. It was Saturday morning, a good time to get some chores done as I was finishing with cleaning the kitchen. I soon faced the CO, granting him a smile as Smitty arrived seconds later. "Who's it from?"

"Special delivery," Smitty answered. "And let's just say that this is one letter that you have to read."

I shrugged my shoulders as I accepted the envelope before my eyes went wide in recognition of the fancy calligraphy from none other than... "Derrick," I breathed, tearing the seal open and pulling out a sheet of paper.

Hey, Jamal, the letter began.

I was hoping to finally get this letter written to you while I was in college getting my degree in fashion design and marketing, but classes and internships got in the way. Still, I felt like I owed myself and you to reach out to you in hopes of finally putting the matter between the two of us to bed.

I knew my dad was behind you beating me for being different and not being the typical asshole that he hoped to make me into. And I also knew of your story of being hated for being a chubby kid back in elementary school. Still, I felt like I was nothing more than your punching bag, someone who shouldn't be your friend as much as I didn't deserve to marry Yolanda Battle. I don't deny it, I often thought about ending it all, to rid myself from the Booker family legacy just to make Mom, Dad, and Melina happy. But that would mean letting them win and not being able to follow my dreams, not to mention writing this letter to you while reaching out to my other sister Jana (who's more of a rebel as I am, thank God) while she's at boarding school. So I vowed to keep fighting for my right to live and be who I can be.

And now, I'm on my way to becoming a famous designer with my new line Solaris Couture to take off as of next month. Although I want you to come see me, I know that my parents wouldn't allow it since you're under police protection after the false charges placed against you were dropped. I don't blame the government because your safety and future is at stake. Just know that I want us to start fresh and maybe even become friends in the way that we weren't allowed to be when we were younger. My contact information is listed below if you're interested and I'm having a cellphone sent to you, burner of course since I don't want to risk our calls being traced and you endangering your life.

And just so we're clear, I forgive you for everything. It took a while as well as bit of spiritual healing thanks to my pastor and his wife who taught me to forgive as much as I want to be forgiven. And hopefully, this letter would be the start of something wonderful.

I hope to hear from you soon. I wish you nothing but the best, Jamal Oglethorpe. And once my parents and Melina get their just desserts, I wish for you to start reclaiming your life once again. I believe you will. I guarantee it.

With all my love,
Derrick Ra'Keem Booker.

Email: derrickbooker@gmail.com
Phone: 212-257-1212

The tears couldn't stop flowing from my eyes as I finished reading the letter. "Damn, Derrick," I sobbed as Smitty came to my side, wrapping me in a big hug. "Smitty, what do you think-"

"It's up to you, but you deserve to reconnect with him," the younger guard replied earnestly, cutting me off. "You deserve it and so much more after all the hell that you went through."

"Damn right," the other guard piped up as a female guard arrived with two boxes. "Gomez, what's this?"

"Special delivery courtesy of Derrick Booker," she replied. "And I heard about the letter from him. Oglethorpe, you should reach out to the guy. Finally make things right and establish a good connection with him. This could be good for you."

I broke away from the hug and turned to Gomez. "I will," I replied firmly, my resolve now set as I accepted the boxes. One of them had a burner phone as Derrick promised. The other contained a laptop computer. "Wow," I said. "Derrick doesn't do anything halfway."

"The warden'll will be by to help you set up the internet, but go ahead and make that phone call," Smitty told me.

As soon as the guards left, I began activating the phone and dialed the number listed on the letter. "Hey, Derrick," I breathed as soon as I was directed to voicemail. "This is Jamal. Look, I got your letter alongside the laptop and phone. I just wanted to let you know that I'm willing to start fresh and all, but I'm still hurting after all I did to you. Know that I will always treasure what we shared the night before the wedding and I have no regrets. Back to the matter at hand, I hope to hear from you soon."

And from there, the wave of letters, emails, and phone calls became the start of something new and wonderful. Like Dr. Montford said, it was never too late for starting over.

Wow.

Just wow.

We got a LOT to cover, folks, especially when it comes to Jamal's other secret that he's been forced to keep. Or should I say..TWO secrets?! That's right, folks! Jamal has two big crosses that he had to carry thanks to the late Gerald Booker.

But coming up next, Tyler's fitful night of sleep leads to an unexpected encounter with one Franklin Romero! Don't go anywhere!

Media: "Breathe (2AM)" by Anna Nalick.

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