FORTY SEVEN

WILLIAM'S POV

I drove to the school, hoping to catch the Marlons before they took their kids home. The address the receptionist had given me was in the south side of the city, a rougher part of town. As I navigated through the streets, the scenery shifted drastically. The polished buildings and manicured lawns of the upper city gave way to dilapidated houses and graffiti-covered walls.

"Guess the Marlons have gone back to their all too familiar abode," I muttered to myself, gripping the steering wheel tighter. The streets were filled with shady characters, street boys hiding guns under their shirts and dealing drugs openly. The air was thick with tension and the unmistakable scent of desperation.

As I approached the school, a small, rundown building with barred windows, I parked my car a few blocks away and walked the rest of the distance. I didn't want to draw any unnecessary attention to myself. The school's entrance was crowded with kids and parents, all looking worn and wary.

I sc