Mirrors of Life (Revised)

The compelling work of contemporary fiction is a gripping drama that encompasses elements of faith, philosophy, suspense, murder, intrigue, and erotic romance.

MIRRORS OF LIFE " CHAPTER ONE

 

 

THE circle of earth turns in underground movement, opening and closing windows into people’s lives, locking and unlocking doors in their paths, and unseen mirrors reflect the days.   

In a neglected place reflects the life of a 14-year-old girl named Yvonne Baker, who in her search for affection has fallen in love with a 17-year-old thug - yearning like a puppy.   

Lovesick in unabashed naivety, she’s left to fend for herself in the guidance of her youth and becomes euphoric in the news of her pregnancy - believing her boyfriend will love her more as the mother of his child.   

But like rain without substance, her melodic joy turns lugubrious when she learns her beau has abandoned in laughter.  A warped fantasy of motherhood has led her to continue the cycle of welfare into a sixth generation. 

Yvonne prays for guidance in the whimpering of a lost child, and tears that fall from a good heart brings wisdom and strength to a feeble mind.  

Eyes once closed are opened to her situation - the eldest of six siblings in a hoarded two-bedroom apartment and her bed the sullied carpet.      

Surroundings once comfortable are now bothersome and raises a consciousness that ignites her motivation to escape the clutches of poverty.  

In a cry of faith from new-found maturity, Yvonne gives birth in the hope that her son named Mister will break the family cycle of generational welfare.           

            Protecting him from the unscrupulous role models that plague communities decimated by poverty and violence, she instills from infancy the values that guide him to avoid the waywardness of the streets and the personal leadership to resist peer pressure. 

In a place where youth often disrespects their parents and the elderly, Mister isn’t one of them, neither does he hang around them.  He’s under strict guidance with education as the priority followed by the love to play basketball. 

At 9-years-old, Mister is a scholar athlete attracting college scouts because of his Phenom talent to excel in every position on the court.  The dream she has for her son is reflecting in the mirrors of life and Mister is stalwart in fulfilling the dream.    

            Every thousand of a second the circle of the earth turns - and in that movement becomes expected and unexpected moments. 

RAT-A-TAT-TAT…rapid pounding as if the person knocking is frustrated the door is locked, interrupts Yvonne, stretched across a black rubber sofa like her Ragdoll cat across the thick carpet. 

“Who is it?” she asks in her friendly nature despite the rudeness. 

“It’s me, baby. How are you?  I missed you.”

The sound of Justin’s voice, the father of Mister, hadn’t been heard in nine years and weren't missed.  Curious about the reason for his visit, she reluctantly opens the door with the safety latch attached. 

Peeking through the crack minimized by a hand that refuses to extend, “What do you want Justin?” she asks bothered.  

Justin is standing in black timbs and baggy jeans with a NorthFace jacket and Raider cap. 

            “Wow!  You’ve gotten even prettier.  Why you hiding?  Open up, baby.  I wanna see my son.”  

“Why?” asking dispassionately. 

 “Why!  Why are you fronting?  Let me in.”

“Nah…ain’t nothing here for you.”   

“What!  My son here.  B***h " let me in so I can see my son.  You got a n***a in there or something?”

“I’m not your b***h.  It’s not your business who’s in my house.  You better go before I call the police.”

“Call the police?  What’s up like that?  I’ve been locked up for seven years, and I miss you.  I just want to talk to you and see my son.  Don’t let me stand out here in the hall talking to you.  Let me in so I can see my son…then I’ll go.”

“He’s not here…and why is he so important to you now?  When I was all hyped about having your child, you dogged me.  You remember what you said?  I haven’t forgotten.  You said that baby ain’t mine.  You called me young and dumb and full of cum.  Laughing at me in front of your boys like I’m a fool for thinking you cared about me.  You remember that?”

“I’m sorry baby.  My bad.  I was high and s**t.  I was young and stupid...but I’ve matured.  I stopped smoking trees baby.  I’m out of the game now.  I’m looking for an honest job.  I love you, Yvonne.  I’ve always loved you, baby.  I want us to start over.  I know you remember the good times we had.”  

“I’m sorry Justin, but you’re not my type.”

“Your type.  What the f**k you mean I’m not your type!”

“You not my type.  The girl you knew is a woman now, and you’re not the man she wants in her life.”

“B***h, you the same freak that like to roll with big dicks.  Stop fronting.  Let me in.” 

Yvonne sneers at his words, begrudging the foolishness of her youth.   

“You’re still a big boy in a man’s body.  Why you here to see Mister?  You disowned him in the womb.  Not once did you come to see him.  Please leave him alone.  I don’t want my son to be influenced by you.”

“B***h…what the f**k you saying!  You don’t want me to influence my son?  What kind of s**t is that?  I have the right to see him.  I told you I’m out of the game.”

With his eyes dark red from smoking trees as cigarillos and the smell of hemp fresh in his clothes, Justin is ready to kick the door open.

“Tell me where I can find my son before I kick this f*****g door in!”

Expecting he might attempt to force his way inside - before opening the door, Yvonne grabbed a sharp chef knife from out of a silverware collection given to her as a housewarming gift - and when he threatens to barge-in, she shows the knife. 

“If you force your way into my house, I’m gonna kill you.”  

Feeling the seriousness from her eyes, he tries to pretend he isn’t afraid. 

“So you gonna stab me now?  You think I’m scared?  B***h, I’ve faced men with shanks.  You don’t scare me.  Open the f*****g the door before I kick this m**********r in and kick your a*s too!” 

Yvonne shuts the door and turns the deadbolt as Justin stands startled - stun by the ease in which she has turned him away. 

His overloud voice captured the attention of every person in the nine apartments spaced on the floor, and they are listening in their nosiness.  But not one of them intervenes when he threatens to kick-in the door and beat her a*s, nor does one call the police -because the law in the projects is to see and hear no evil. 

Staring at the frayed door - Justin is thinking about his next move. 

“B***h, I’m gonna see my son,” he yells in his obstinate mentality.   

Yvonne, standing quietly behind the door, is waiting to hear the comfort of his footsteps leaving.  The knife clutched tightly in both hands; she can feel Justin waiting outside.  She can smell his scent.  She can hear his breath.      

“Why is he waiting?  How can I keep him away my son?” her mind is pondering.     

“B***h, I’m gonna kick your a*s when I catch you on the street!   Tell that punk-a*s n***a you got in there to come out here.  You f****n hoe.” 

            Standing as a frozen body in hidden fear, Yvonne transforms when she hears Justin’s sauntering footsteps exiting the dilapidated building.   

Hurrying to the cordless phone that sits on a fourth generation coffee table, she dials her grandmother. 

“Where’s Mister?”

“He’s in the room watching television.”

“Keep him in the house.”

“Why?  What’s wrong?” her grandmother asks feeling the edginess in her voice. 

“Justin’s looking for him.”

“Justin’s out?  Why he looking for Mister.  He told everyone Mister isn’t his son.”

“Yeah but I think he heard about the college scouts.”

“OH.  Okay.  I’ll keep him in the house.”  
            Yvonne hasn’t told her son about his father " believing Justin’s fame in the hood will influence.   But now she has to tell her son.  She also knows it’s better for her to say than Justin.  Another stress factor added to an already stressful life. 

Yvonne hasn’t lied to her son about his father because he hasn’t asked about his father.  From the womb, Mister saw Yvonne as his mother and father.  Maybe because she began schooling him in the womb. 

But now she has to tell him in the morning what she doesn’t want him to know.  She prays for a solution she cannot find.  She prays hoping when her son learns about his father; his footsteps won’t alter. 

As a restless night turns to morning, Yvonne awakens from a half night’s sleep to the chirping of birds.  Weary and uninspired for a conversation with her son - she lays in bed a little longer to prepare herself mentally.   

An advocate for watching the news - she turns on the television. 

Propping her back against a third generation headboard - she comforts herself. 

“Come here girl…mmm…that’s A good girl.” she is saying to her cat climbing into the smoothness of her arms. 

Rubbing the fluffiness of her Ragdoll feline, she turns her attention to the television. 

“Police say the body of an African-American male was found dead of gunshot wounds earlier this morning in the alley behind me.  The victim identified as 27-year-old Justin Kendricks released two days ago from a Federal prison after serving seven years for manslaughter is a known gang member.  At this time, the police are not releasing any additional details.” 

“Oh my God!” she shouts - thinking of the tragedy in unrest.  

She’s feeling a sting of sadness and not gladness - because, under all of Justin’s thuggish mentality, Yvonne sees a decent person lost in translation and cries for him.  But she doesn’t tell her son that Justin is his father.  But if he asks about his dad, she will tell him the truth.                        

  As the days on earth past quickly with people hiding and revealing secrets in the name of love made selfish, Yvonne continues in the hope of her dreams among the many fighting to avoid the realm of darkness that floats nomadically - sneaking into lives from unawareness and stress.       

Fighting the battle in her loneliness, Yvonne attends a renowned nightclub with her best friend Cynthia, a very cute well-proportioned yellowish hue an inch above a dwarf.

Sitting at a four person table, they are scouring the place discreetly as women do - looking for a single man that attracts their selective eye when the beat of Billie Jean by Michael Jackson impulses their movement to the dance floor.   

They are happily bouncing in the latest dance moves when a tall, dark and mysterious man with the corporal rank of an Army Ranger, smoothly steps in-between to dance with Yvonne. 

“Where did he come from?  I didn’t notice him,” she is saying in her private thoughts.

But as out of the shadows of others he appeared gazing at her with his brown satin eyes in the silkiness of his movements that heighten the attraction of a man in uniform. 

His illustrious presence is holding the attention of her large bright, stunning eyes underlined by framed eyeliner and long natural eyelashes that confirm a mutual attraction.      

Cynthia is a forgotten dance partner but continues as Yvonne and this mysterious man are flirting without a word.  The expressions on their faces and the look from their eyes are the words from their mouths.    

As she admires the flow of his dance moves - he’s viewing an hourglass in black pumps and a sexy lavender dress with mauve filigree swirl earrings.  Her natural black hair is stylishly shiny and slightly parted in the middle - evenly flowing to the beginning of her neck.  Her arched eyebrows are vivid and natural.  Her puffy lips in nude flesh-tone lipstick highlight the brilliance of her smile.     

When the song ends in the beat of another, he introduce himself as Cedric Williams and escorts Yvonne to her table, while Cynthia has found a new dance partner and remains on the floor.

Poignant in attraction, they sit surrounded by indistinct conversations and loud music. 

“Where were you hiding?” Yvonne asks with a smile that showcases the splendor of her reddish-brown skin covering the face of a model’s beauty.   

“I wasn’t hiding.  I was waiting for the moment.” Cedric answers rubbing his index finger slowly across his manicured mustache like hidden thoughts. 

Yvonne pauses in contemplations.   

“Are you attached?” Cedric asks as she’s lingering in her thoughts.

“I’m attached to my 9-year-old son.”

“What’s his name?” 

“Mister.”

“Mister.  That’s a cool name.  I have a 6-year-old daughter back home in Mississippi.  Her name is Erin.”

“Erin is a lovely name.”

“Thank you.” 

“Are you still involved with the mother?” she asks with an inquiring mind.   

Derrick shines his eyes in a grin that turn into a full smile " knowing the reason for the question.  

“She’s married, but we are friends.  I will always be a part of my daughter’s life.  I believe a father’s role is to support his child emotionally and financially regardless of his relationship with the mother.” 

Appeased by his words " Yvonne wants a deeper understanding of this mysterious man.

“Tell me about yourself?”

“I was born in the slums of Mississippi, a state where slavery still exist in the backwoods.  I’m the only child, but I wasn’t spoiled.  My parents have been together for over 30 years.  I grew up a loner and a thinker.  I had a strong imagination.  I would make-up ways to play basketball and football games by myself.  But I was a typical kid.  Just with a little more imagination than most.   

My favorite recording artist is the poet Gil Scott-Heron.” 

“I like him too.” 

“My favorite movie is the Spook Who Sat By The Door.”  Yvonne interrupts, “Is that a horror movie?  I never heard of it.” she says in love with horror films. 

“Naahhh…it’s about a black revolution. I won’t go into details because I want you to see the movie.  I read the book also.  But my favorite book besides the Bible is Black Wall Street.”

“I’ve heard of Wall Street, but what is Black Wall Street?” 

“Economic Empowerment in a black community.  The path to self-sustainability.”

“You sound like my uncle who was a Black Panther.  What made you join the military?”

“I joined to support my daughter because the only jobs in Mississippi for a black man without a college degree is washing dishes and cleaning toilets.  The military has taken me away from poverty, but not my family so because they are still in poverty, I’m still in poverty.  The only way for a black non-athlete to escape poverty is with a good education or entrepreneurship.  I don’t have a good education, but I’m dreaming of starting my own business.” 

“What type of business?”   

“A distributor of gold.  I believe I can convince the Nigerians to sell me their gold below market price.  Then I’ll sell it to the Europeans at market price.” 

“Why would the Nigerians sell their gold to you below market price?” she asks to learn.  

“The white man is raping Africa for materials to make his planes and ships…maybe I can be the liaison to help Africa reap resources from this country.  That is one of my dreams.  Everything that anyone has created or accomplished started with an idea.  Dreams come true with potential and the will to succeed, but you must have the potential. 

If your dream is to be a professional basketball player and you don’t have the potential that is the talent, you need to follow another dream. 

If your dream is to become a lawyer and you don’t take the educational steps necessary to become a lawyer, then you’re just daydreaming and fooling yourself.”  

“My son is my dream.  I might not escape poverty, but I’m determined for him to escape and never return.” 

“That’s good.  You should live for what will be, remembering what has been, and knowing what is.”    

“What do you mean?” she asks struck by the profound words.

“Reality surpasses actuality.  Your current situation isn’t your reality, but your actuality.  The actuality is yesterday and today " but the reality is yesterday, today, and tomorrow.  We might not live to see tomorrow, but tomorrow will come, so we need to prepare today for tomorrow.” 

Yvonne looks at Cedric and sees an intelligent and charismatic man.  Cedric sees a sharp and wise woman and asks, “Tell me about yourself?” 

“I had my son at fourteen, and he has an aunt that is only two years older than him.  I was a stupid child when I got pregnant - searching for a love I couldn’t find at home because my mother was too busy raising six children alone without a father and the youngest two-years-old, to take the time to give me a hug when I needed one. Maybe she didn’t realize the importance. 

Whatever, God saved me.  I matured overnight and realized education is the key to escape poverty.  My grandmother Ruth babysat my son while I was finishing high school and working part-time at a fast-food eatery.  I graduated with honors and received a scholarship to attend Community College.  My plan was to get an Associate Degree and transfer to the local University to get my Bachelor.  

When I turned eighteen, the welfare system provided me with a two-bedroom apartment in the same projects where my mother and grandmother reside.  After receiving my Associate’s, I was promoted to a manager position at the eatery and decided not to pursue my education further to spend more time raising my son.” 

“Your story is of an ingenious woman.”

“All glory be to God.”   

“Yes.  All praise and glory are to God.” 

Finding lots in common from religion and politics to the things they like to do at their leisure, they are strangers no more and begin dating regularly. 

Cedric becomes a fixture in the life of Mister and fills the void of a father-figure.  Attending his basketball games, teaching him about the birds and the bees, and manhood.  Mister’s shyness has diminished because of Cedric.  An introvert has also become an extrovert.  Mister is happy in the company of Cedric, whom he calls his father after the first month.   

              For the first time as a woman, Yvonne’s in love " but keeps her feelings private.  Although the signs are clear that Cedric feels the same, like a wise woman, she waits for him to share his feelings. 

In the fifth month of their relationship, there is a knock on her door.  Knowing it's not Cedric because he told her that he is on leave visiting his daughter before his deployment to Lebanon, she’s thinking it might be Carolyn who is preparing to move away to Atlanta to start a new job. 

She opens the door and to her surprise, a delivery man is standing with a large package. 

“Special Delivery for Yvonne Baker,” he says

“I’m Yvonne Baker.” 

“Please sign here.”

She signs and he gives the package.  Normally he would wait for a tip but not in this neighborhood.  So he leaves quickly. 

Yvonne carries the delivery to her sofa and sits.  Mister is sitting beside her in the obvious excitement she is holding within. 

She opens the package and it’s a big box the size of a Pharrell top hat.  She opens and it’s another box the size of a cowboy hat.  She opens and it’s another box the size of a baseball cap.  She opens and it’s a tiny black suede box.  Engraved on top of the box is EARRINGS written in gold lettering. 

Yonne is smiling inexorably.  Mister is impatiently waiting to see what’s inside the box.    

She opens expecting earrings, and it’s a ring. 

“OOOOHHHHHHHHH MY GOD!”  

She jumps in jubilance and starts running a continuous circle in place with the ring raised high in her left hand.  Mister is watching the excitement unsure of what to do.   

            There is another knock at the door.  Thinking it’s Cedric - he dashes and opens with eyes wide, and face lit, in a huge smile with the ring on her finger extended outward for display. 

But standing is the delivery man with a sad face. 

“I’m sorry Miss…I asked you to sign for the wrong package.” 

Her eyes close, her face darkens and her smile retreats. 

She is baffled, disappointed, and embarrassed all at once. 

Then suddenly, in a flash of the unexpected and needed, Cedric steps out from hiding at the side of the door and in one motion falls to one knee with a huge smile.      

“Will you marry me?” 

“YESSSSSSSS!”

“I LOVE YOU…I LOVE YOU…I LOVE YOU!” she is yelling as she yanks him from his knee to give him a loving kiss and warm embrace. 

Mister runs and joins the moment with his arms around both.  His face is gleaming from the feeling of a new life at hand. 

The year is 1989 and the day is five months to the day Yvonne and Derrick first met.  What begins for most as a slow process came rapidly for them, as they quickly fell in love by seizing the moments that reflected love during their conversations, when they looked at each other, and when they thought about one another.  Not only do they love each other, most importantly, they like each other.  They make plans to marry when Derrick returns from a six-month deployment. 

Six weeks after his deployment, Yvonne learns she’s pregnant and tries to contact Cedric to share the good news, but is unable.   

She writes letters without reply as the weeks pass in silence.   Her worry turns to fear - then to grieving when she learns from one of his comrades that Cedric has died in a gun battle with extremists.  The reality of death stalls a budding life in the stages of fulfilling a dream.   

Sobbing in choking tears at the rancid news, Yvonne lays straddled on her bed in fond memories that ignite an abundance of more tears as she listens to songs by Lonette McKee - At Least I Had You One Time, and Maybe There Are Reasons.   

Mister, hearing the loud and unyielding cries from his mother, runs into her room in a befuddled face. 

“Ma…what’s wrong Ma?” he mumbles in tears flowing because of his mother’s tears.

“Baby I’m okay,” she’s stammering clutching a picture of her and Cedric on New Year’s Eve.  

Seeing his mother sorrow - he lays his tall, thin body on top of her - hugging her waist like a primate child clings.  The harder she cries the tighter he holds.

“There is a positive side to every negative thing,” he says to his mother remembering what Cedric had told him to say when bad things happen.   

Yvonne finds a comfort hearing the words from the mouth of her 10-year-old son.  She feels an inspiration like none before.  And in her teary eyes, she turns and hugs her son and tells him hat Cedric has died.       

Mister’s tears are now personal.    

“Why my father die?” he struggles to ask from a mouth gasping in an overflow of tears.   

Yvonne holds him tighter - kissing the top of his head as he lays his teary eyes on her breast in a slumped body looking to escape the feeling at hand.  

Realizing her son needs to be comforted, she holds back her tears and speaks the same words he had spoken to comfort her. 

“Ma…what those words mean?”

“I’m pregnant.”  

“Pregnant!” Mister shouts enthused as his slumped body quickly raised in forgotten tears. 

Feeling the impact from understanding the positive side of a negative thing, he gently lays his well-groomed head on the slight bulge of his mother until he falls asleep listening for the sound of a brother or sister.   Mister has found happiness in his sadness, and the end of his self-imposed reclusion.

Yvonne, reeling from the pain of love taken by death, grips the taxing challenge of raising a second child alone without concern - because in her womb is the last life of the first man she truly loved. 

 

END OF CHAPTER ONE

 

Author's Note

Based on the constructive criticism I received, I revised my novel. I want to thank my teacher BobM and all the artists who reviewed Chapter One and provided feedback. I am confident that written with the prose that appeals to avid readers and delivered a story that will sell books. Please review and share your feedback.
Thank you

Reviews

[Linda Marie Van Tassell]

One small critique:

"The year is 1989 and the day is five months to the day Yvonne and Derrick first met. What begins for most as a slow process came rapidly for them, as they quickly fell in love by seizing the moments that reflected love during their conversations, when they looked at each other, and when they thought about one another. Not only do they love each other, most importantly, they like each other. They make plans to marry when Derrick returns from a six-month deployment."

The name change from Cedric to Derrick back to Cedric really jumped off the screen at me. I'm assuming this should be Cedric instead.

This one small thing aside, I have to say that I was drawn in - hook, line, and sinker - from the very beginning. The actuality of each life is a miracle that deserves to be told, some more than others, but no less a miracle.

[Cornelius]

Thank you for the review and small critique. Very helpful and encouraging. God bless!

[Raynedog]

Keep a grain of salt in one hand, a pound in the other. One persons opinions do not make or break a story or should they ever be the reason to do or not do something. You have instincst and you should follow them. Know when to make a change and when to say, no - this is the way it needs to be. Keep that in mind as you read my review.

Here’s what I love. You’re coming out of your shell more every time I read your work. You’re putting on your artist pants and embracing the fact they you are an artist, a writer, someone who’s happiness comes from putting words on paper in a particular order.

You will need to rewrite this at least three more times though. You’re getting there very quickly but still a bit reserved in places, holding back a bit in spots. Consider moving the syntax of some of your sentences around. Some of the sentences feel orphaned from paragraphs. I still feel like there is a lot of telling going on in your story, it reads like a news report, or an article. That’s all well and good but I think you intend to write a fictional story and bring the reader into a world that they can experience what’s going on with your characters.

You’re the director an puppeteer of the show playing out in my mind when I read your work and the players are lifeless unless you give them direction and move the camera. So, for instance
“Wow! You’ve gotten even prettier.
Why you hiding? Open up, baby. I wanna see my son.”
“Why?”. She crosses her arms, looking her baby daddy over from head to toe
“Why! Why are you fronting? Let me in.”
“Nah…ain’t nothing here for you.”
Look, I can’t write as good as you can but you get the idea, don’t tell us how they feel, make us feel how they feel.

Fighting the battle in her loneliness(explain or hint at, make us feel it), Yvonne attends a renowned nightclub with her best friend Cynthia, a very cute well-proportioned yellowish hue an inch above a dwarf.

Mister has found happiness in his sadness, and the end of his self-imposed reclusion.
Yvonne, reeling from the pain of love taken by death, grips the taxing challenge of raising a second child alone without concern - because in her womb is the last life of the first man she truly loved.
WOW! Well done, way to close the chapter. You’re getting there more and more with each re-write.
Also, think about playing a bit more with less telling more showing. For instance:


Six weeks after his deployment, Yvonne learns she’s pregnant and tries to contact Cedric to share the good news, but is unable.
She writes letters without reply as the weeks pass in silence. Her worry turns to fear - then to grieving when she learns from one of his comrades that Cedric has died in a gun battle with extremists. The reality of death stalls a budding life in the stages of fulfilling a dream.

OR


Six weeks after his deployment, Yvonne learns she’s pregnant. She writes letters without reply as the weeks pass in silence.
Her worry turns to fear - then to grieving(how so?) when she learns from one of his comrades that Cedric has died in a gun battle with extremists( How does she find out, from who? Does she find out on accident or did someone reach out to her?)The reality of death stalls a budding life in the stages of fulfilling a dream.

[Cornelius]

Thank you again for another outstanding review. It is very refreshing to receive another wriers review of your work. You have very good writing skills...have you been published or are you looking to publish your work in the future?

[Raynedog]

No I'm unpublished, and have never written anything that's had the pleasant misfortune of being mistaken for interesting or good. Maybe someday I'll get there, maybe not. I'm just a guy working a 9-5 pretending to be a writer in my spare time.

[dale2016]

I like the chapter. Well written and good characterizations. I believe this type of story sells if executed properly. The beginning captures my attention and holds it. I am guessing Yvonne's reason for keeping a secret from her son will be explained in another chapter. Interesting - "people hiding and revealing secrets in the name of love made selfish." Are you saying Yvonne's secret is selfish love?

Strong story so far...I will buy the book...probably won't be published until a year from now but I'll keep a lookout.

[Cornelius]

Thank you for the review. We often allow our love to become selfish. Often it is a flaw of our individuality.

[sandman]

much better than the original. nice of you to acknowledge bobm. curious to read his review.

good luck...can you post a synopsis of your book?

[Cornelius]

Thank you for the review. The story follows the spiritual procession of a son who becomes a Venture Capitalist to build black economic empowerment communities opposed by a council for the super-rich and leaders of his own race that leads to suspense, intrique, and murder.

[Cornelius]

For some reason, when I posted, the site changed the hyphen to a quote mark. Correction made.