Winter came late to Southside that year, but when it hit, it hit hard. Cold swept through the streets, chasing people indoors. The warmth of the bonfires was replaced by heaters buzzing in the background of the community center.
But the center stayed open. Always.
Jaylen launched "Keep Us Warm"—a coat and blanket drive. It started with just six jackets and a few scarves. By week's end, over a hundred items had poured in. Donations came from local businesses, grandmas, even a church across town.
Everyone gave something.
Even Rico.
He dropped a trash bag of winter gear at the door, no words, just a nod.
Jaylen didn't chase him. That was enough.
Inside, life pulsed. Malik led tutoring sessions now. Zaria started a podcast—"Southside Speaks." Kids were staying later, not because they had to, but because it *felt like home.*
Tyrell stood at the front one night, addressing a room packed with parents and youth.
"This center didn't just save kids," he said. "It saved *me.*"
Applause.
Tears.
Even Mr. Alvarez, the ex-gang leader turned custodian, wiped his eye.
Jaylen walked home alone later that night, the sound of snow crunching under his sneakers. He stopped at the mural wall. Someone had added a new one:
*"We Are The Light."*
Underneath, in smaller letters:
*"Dedicated to everyone who stayed."*
He smiled.
The center didn't fix everything. There were still sirens. Still struggle.
But there was *connection*. Roots, dug deep beneath concrete.
And from those roots, something unshakable had grown:
*Family.*