Ma’tee tried to run under his kitchen table for protection, but he never made it. The roof caved in and crushed him, burying him in debris. Breeze witnessed Ma’tee’s death just before the roof crushed her also. Breeze was instantly knocked unconscious as the earth crashed down on top of her.

This natural disaster had made an imprint on Haiti’s country that would be talked about for years to come.

Carter walked through the cellblock with a folded blanket and thin pillow in his hands. Two guards escorted him to his cell as the sounds of the rowdy inmates echoed through the corridor. Carter walked at his own pace with his head held high. The sound of someone yelling, “The Cartel is in the building!” sounded off, and Carter smirked, knowing that some of his soldiers were on his cellblock. The feds had come in and locked up most of his crew, and some of them were in the same penitentiary Carter was currently at, which meant Carter was still in a position of power.

“Stop right here,” the guard said as they approached the last cell on the block.

“Open D-one!” he yelled down the corridor. Moments later, the door slid open, exposing a heavy set Latino man with a salt-and-pepper beard. He looked to be in his mid to late fifties.

“Garza, you have a new celly,” the guard said, referring to him having a cellmate.

“You know the rules. My cell is not to be shared!” Garza objected as he sat up from his bunk and placed down the book that he was reading.

“The prison is full and there is no other place he can go. He has to come in here,” the guard said as if he were explaining to Garza rather than telling him.