Colin’s mother was dead. Of course he would have to go home to Barbados and say his final goodbye. Easter turned the book over, clutched it by the spine, and waved it briskly through the air. The pages flapped noisily, but not a dollar fell. The money was gone. She rushed from the apartment and ran all the way to Jack Jones’s place. His landlady was outside, humming to herself as she swept debris into the street. When she glanced up, Easter was marching toward her. “Jack there?” Easter screeched, clutching her fists to her chest. The woman shook her head no and watched as Easter turned and streaked back in the direction she’d come. By the time she arrived at the UNIA headquarters the muscles in her legs were twitching. She took the stone steps two at a time and pressed the black doorbell and jumped back in surprise when the firecracker sound of a gunshot echoed from behind the double doors, instead of the ding-dong-dang she’d expected. Colin was already in the building when Easter discovered their life savings was gone.
