Alexandra's Legacy

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She could feel the eyes watching her as she ambled down the sidewalk. The street looked deserted, but Alexandra Riley wasn’t fooled by appearances. She’d grown up in Chicago, and although this was a working-class neighborhood, she knew the walls and alleys had eyes and ears.

The night dwellers were beginning to slink back into their daytime hideaways until the sun set again. A new day was just breaking, and the streetlights were beginning to wink out as the dawn brightened the sky. The people of the South Side were just beginning to roll out of bed, getting ready to start another working day.

Juggling two large, hot steaming coffees and a bag of freshly baked blueberry muffins, Alex headed for the large building at the end of the street. Although she was very aware of her surroundings, she wasn’t afraid. This was her home and, for better or worse, these were her people. They all knew her, but more than that, they knew her father. And James Riley would cheerfully rip the head off anyone who so much as stared at her the wrong way.

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