Original subtitles

DIARRA: I was ready for my mom era.

A co-parent who can use my sperm?

She could make this domestic thing fun.

You don't want kids?

No, this world is fucked up as it is.

Well, I can't break up with a Black man

- while he's in jail. - What?

DIARRA: Chris might not be the one, but he still needs me.

Somebody blew up your car. Your boyfriend locked up.

You need prayer, alcohol, and fellowship.

My weave and Chris locked up.

He asked if I can intro you to someone

who could help with the customs issue.

My boy, Priest, is a barber.

DANGER: Michigan Vanguard. Fucking Militia?

BAILEY: The revolution has to be funded.

I know you're not naïve on that.

Who the hell is Cartier Kelly?

[Diarra screams in pain]

You just entered into a contract.

You gonna find out who killed my nephew.

I'm gonna find your people. Make you suffer.

We need to find Booker. His testimony frees Chris.

I need you to tell me

what you saw the night of the Coney killings.

I know your boyfriend wasn't there that night.

And I know who was. But I need my inheritance.

Find it, and I'm your star witness.

DIARRA: This was about more than

getting him out to dump him.

Oh, my fucking God.

DIARRA: I missed him.

I missed Chris.

Here's your treasure.

DIARRA: The painting's a clue.

This is only the beginning.

[upbeat music playing]

DIARRA: Confession.

Once I escaped Brightmoor, shit, I couldn't stop.

I became an escape artist.

Can you... Jesus, what? Bitch, what?

Not y'all crawling through the sewer.

DIARRA: I escaped again, and again, and again.

- I'm on summer vacation. - Mm-hmm.

Which means we are vacating from all of this shit.

Except getting Chris free and finding that gold.

And I wasn't the only one looking for a nice escape.

Well, Mac is officially cooked.

I fucked the shit out of that little nigga.

- What? - Right?

- Yeah. - Okay, I drained his ass

- like he was a bathtub. - [all exclaiming]

DIARRA: I heard something deep within my subconscious say...

Dee, you're in limbo.

You be a state of mind or dance.

So dance.

DIARRA: I realized if I was meant to become a mom,

this might be my last summer of freedom.

So I surrendered to a pre-mom-cation.

There's an art to escaping, and I'd become a master at it.

Or so I thought.

- [pounding on door] - Oh, shit!

- TEA: Who the hell is that? - Oh!

DIARRA: It was trouble.

Wait, I should go back.

[tense music playing]

First, you should know what I didn't.

And I can think of one reason not to kill your fucking ass.

DIARRA: That all my escapes had come at a cost.

You're not getting it. None of this ever happened.

DIARRA: Months ago, before the case of the missing armoire,

I didn't know it, but my messes had set a gang war in motion.

And all of the D would pay the price.

Here's the story of how trouble I couldn't escape

came right to my front door.

[phone ringing]

SPIDER: Pump pick up, man.

- Yo? - SPIDER: Yo, Pump, listen.

They'll be dead, man.

Yeah, it was a fucking setup.

- Roman ain't on that shit. - Huh?

- Yo, you hear me? - Hold up, I'm getting a pen.

[audio cutting out] Danger ain't for a Black shit...

Teach y'all a thing. He's a Black...

You said Danger.

Roman.

A preacher in a Camry?

Not a fucking Camry. Chevy.

- PUMP: Kill the preacher. - Teacher.

- PUMP: I got it. - Teacher. Fuck!

- Pump, you hear me? - PUMP: Pops.

- [gunshots popping] - [grunting]

Pops! Hello?

DIARRA: And so Pump's arrogant ass

ascended to the throne way too soon.

♪

My pops is gone.

My auntie Velvet, gone.

I'm just here to let y'all niggas know.

I'm in charge of the Woodward Boys now.

We running Woodward from downtown to 8 Mile.

[laughs]

Y'all niggas gonna pay y'all taxes. [laughs]

And we gone be generous to keep the Chief off y'all neck.

[knuckles cracking]

Seem like y'all arthritis want to flow.

Yeah.

I have something to say.

After hearing your proposal and... [clears throat]

...giving it no consideration,

I have to say, fuck that.

Fuck you say, old nigga?

I said...

- fuck you running shit, Pump. - [Scarface laughs]

I'mma to bow down to some YN

and even take care of that nigga who killed his own people.

First of all, old nigga, mind your fucking business.

We handling that.

Roman, Danger, the preacher in the Chevy.

They all on my IG hit list. Pull up, bro.

[scoffs] And all my followers know.

- Dead them niggas on sight. - Good luck with that.

I'm going to say this one time.

F-Mob ain't paying no more taxes.

And we not bending the knee.

Huh? Huh?

Huh?

We're out.

CARTIER: Past your bed time, nigga

[laughter]

Fucking nepo babies.

When niggas started putting kill lists on Instagram.

The fuck? [laughs]

Ox.

This is about to get real foul.

You need to make a choice.

Otherwise...

shit's gonna get real uncomfortable for you too.

[dramatic music playing]

The pops must be an OG with the scar.

DIARRA: Then I just had to go into Gratiot Kings' territory.

[both grunting]

Chris!

Where Chris's rage could stir the pot...

Hey!

...of confusion.

This is F-Mob. Oh, yeah, yeah.

That's called self-sending me a message.

And on my baby prom night is over the line.

Yeah, we hitting them back hard, y'all.

Hard and disrespectful.

Go, go, go, go!

DIARRA: Then Gratiot Kings would strike

when Cartier was already out for blood.

- Weak! - [glass shattering]

[engine revving]

All of my escapes were really a conjuring

for trouble.

SCARFACE: That's how you handle business.

Gratiot Kings style, baby.

Y'all gotta get that nigga Pump next.

You hear me?

Check his Instagram, his TikTok,

his Blue Sky, shit, his mama's Facebook.

I don't give a fuck You get him.

That motherfucker gotta get got ASAP.

Niggas is vulnerable.

Before they know it, it's gonna be an all-out war.

It's gonna be our window to strike on them.

The fuck!

- [engine revving] - [gunshots rattling]

Ah!

♪

Ah!

[grunting]

[Scarface wheezing]

Good night from Cartier.

[gunshots popping]

DIARRA: And then, the Gratiot Kings would fall.

And trouble would need a new safe haven.

But like I said,

I didn't know any of that just yet.

- [pounds on door] - Cartier.

- Do you think he found me? - Damn, well there goes my buzz.

I know he didn't expect me

to find the Coney killer in a few hours.

He's gonna kill me. Fuck! Shit!

It was a good thing I took the confiscation box

from school.

Those badass kids had good shit.

Fuck! Oh, wait, no, no, no. Not today.

- Here! - Okay.

DIARRA: And we needed to arm up.

- [pounding on door] - [taser buzzing]

BOOKER: Yo, come on, man.

Come on, tell me you got my treasure.

I need it. Like now.

DIARRA: Turned out trouble was my witness.

- Who the fuck is all of them? - Okay, these are my friends.

They were just going to bed.

[mouthing] It's Booker. It's Booker.

I've never sobered up so fast in my fucking life.

Booker.

I knew I needed to handle him

with kid gloves.

You wanna tell me what happened?

Gratiot Kings just got hit a couple hours ago.

- [tires screeching] - [gunshots rattling]

Daddy!

Shit was a fucking massacre, man.

Oh, shit.

Are Lisa and Brandee, are they okay?

No. Their pops is gone.

I'm taking them out of state now.

Oh, Jesus.

Lisa was letting me stay in the basement.

I got nowhere else to go.

I don't know what else to do except get my treasure,

get my little brother, and get the fuck out of here.

All right, slow down. Let's breathe.

I also knew the universe had sent me

one hell of a motherhood test.

I told you that I would help you,

- and I will. - So you got it.

Well, you know, I'm working on it.

- I just need you to trust me. - Ron said, "Trust me."

He said, "I know the desk is yours, Booker."

And then I catch him on the phone

trying to sell it from up underneath me.

All right, I'm not Ron.

All right? I'm a teacher.

If I tell a kid that I'm going to help them, I mean it.

- I'm ain't a kid. I'm 22. - Okay.

What the fuck kind of teacher are you, man?

Hey, teachers have full lives, bro.

Tea, please.

I don't know if you're going to want to help me

- when you find out the truth. - 'm pretty tough, Booker.

I can forgive a lot.

[Booker sniffles]

At the Coney...

there were two shooters.

And one of them was me.

[dramatic music playing]

[gentle music playing]

I can't believe you let baby Suge Knight stay the night.

He's the key to getting Chris out of jail.

He's also a scared kid.

What? We don't know what happened.

He murdered a whole person.

Yeah, but-- well, there's no such thing

- as murdering half a person. - It's not cute right now.

DIARRA: In fact, it was getting downright ugly.

Booker needed my help,

but I had already promised Cartier his head.

You need to press his ass. Get him the fuck up out of here.

You don't even know if that ghetto desk belongs to him.

- Shh! - BOOKER: It belongs to me.

My granny left it to me on her deathbed.

She said my inheritance was in it.

She was superstitious about everything,

but especially that J and P.

She said only a worthy man,

a man of honor, could hold the fortune.

And if he wasn't,

the treasure would kill your ass.

Is he threatening us?

Cuzzo, why don't you go make us some breakfast, please?

I don't have a sight line from the kitchen.

I might need to body slam this nigga.

Raqueeba, go make some damn eggs.

[Raqueeba sighs]

And some bacon and some biscuits.

I needed to get to the bottom of his story, and quick.

I needed the second shooter.

Good morning.

I told Booker he could stay another night,

but the rent was steep.

I needed every detail.

I needed him to make me feel like I was there.

[dramatic music playing]

I schemed that shit up perfectly.

The niggas from Reddit was coming,

and I was praying one of them had my key.

But off rip, everything went left.

Surge was my boy since we played PAL.

When he found out I didn't bring the desk,

and wouldn't tell him where it was,

and he went nuts.

I need that fucking desk.

Hey, yo, calm the fuck down, Surge.

- I need that fucking desk. - Yo, Surge!

Surge was F-Mob.

Cartier soldiers, they liked to bring him gifts.

Stuff he covets, like buffs or antiques.

You were always just a mark.

Yeah, well, you forgot I had your boyfriend's gun.

Nigga, where the fuck is that desk!

- [overlapping shouting] - [gunshot popping]

[panting]

- [door clicks open] - Oh, shit.

I've been to antique auctions before.

But a secret invite? They're going all out.

Drove down from Blair, Michigan.

You guys can't come in here. Auction's off.

I just drove two damn hours.

Yeah, I don't have time for this, player. Excuse me.

BOOKER: And I thought I had ghosted Lisa's boss,

but his weak ass showed up anyway.

I didn't know @squarebusiness on Reddit was him.

And that old dude?

Must have been @MichiganStrong0808.

I was sure whoever bid the most was gonna have my key.

Okay, so, who killed these two?

BOOKER: Some lady in a mask.

Came in through the back. All businesslike.

She was never finna bid.

WOMAN: Get on your knees!

- And at this point, - WOMAN: Where is it?

BOOKER: I was pissing myself.

BOOKER: The desk? It ain't here. I promise ma'am.

I didn't know what she was gonna do when she took

- the gun from me. - LISA'S BOSS: Stop, please.

[gunshots popping]

WOMAN: Last chance. Where's the desk?

- How'd you survive? - Surge wasn't dead.

He popped back up.

Lady killer turned to finish the job.

The whole time she was whistling like killing wasn't nothing.

- [whistling continues] - And I ran.

Wait, how'd you know it was a woman?

She smelled like old lady perfume.

Wait a minute.

So, you're saying it was a masked

- old lady killer? - Yep. Mm-hmm.

Like, old lady? Like, how old? Am I an old lady to you?

Don't answer that. Do not answer that.

Booker, I need you to go to the cops

and tell them what you just told me.

Nah, man. Fuck that shit. No, fuck that, man.

You know what happened to me in jail?

You said you'd be my star witness.

And I will be from 2,000 miles away once I get my money.

Now, I ain't looked at it yet,

but I got the whole damn bloodbath

- recorded on a drone. - RAQUEEBA: Wait, wait.

- You got a whole video? - Of course I do.

The niggas could've had my key.

Raqueeba, I got this.

When me and my little bro safe on some beach,

I'll tell you where the drone at.

- That's the deal. - I'm sorry,

but fucking fuckity fuck no.

That could take forever.

We don't know how long Dunc's treasure hunt is.

He had no Netflix, no TikTok, no apps whatsoever.

Okay, this motherfucker had time.

Sounds like your ass better get to work then.

Booker, there is a man in jail.

I don't have time to sit around and play fucking games with you.

So what the fuck about me then, huh?

I seen the news.

Your damn boyfriend's a local celebrity in there.

He's protected. And you said it.

Surge was F-Mob. And Lady Killer knows my face.

So while they debating and deciding

whether or not it was self-defense,

I'll be in County getting fucking murked.

DIARRA: I hated it, but he had a point,

if his story was to be believed.

Fuck!

[cutlery clattering]

I wanted to believe him,

but Chris had been so sure that Booker couldn't be trusted.

If I was going to make a deal,

I needed to put Booker to the test.

[birds chirping]

I saw you work up a sweat. You hungry?

- I ate when I got up. - Well, eat again.

- It's hot. - Where's Dirk?

Him and Sam took a load to the city.

The farm to tables downtown

can't get enough of my sweet corn.

- Susan, Mel, Levi? - Everybody's gone.

- What, that's done? - Yeah, that's done.

Thought maybe you was reeling in niggas for the Militia.

- I ain't with it. - I voted for Big Gretch.

- I fucking hate those guys. - Not from what I saw.

You know, first you're moving more than farm-fresh corn.

Okay.

Then you're moving shit for the Vanguard?

I'm not Militia.

It's a temporary arrangement.

They're using this farm to move meth.

Tell yourself whatever you want. You with them.

If I pull out right now, I put everybody at this farm,

including you, in harm's way.

The Vanguard is planning something big,

and as soon as they're done,

they cut me and this farm loose.

I don't give a shit.

I was always just passing through.

Bullshit. You love this place.

Riding horses and planting shit.

And fucking me. You're home.

Don't let some dumb shit that I did

drive you back to a world that left you for dead.

As soon as this is over, we can do whatever we want.

What the fuck do you want from me?

I like you, Om.

I want you to eat your fucking eggs.

DIARRA: My patented Oreo cookie test.

After years in the classroom,

I developed a surefire method for rooting out baby sociopaths.

Cookie?

See, sociopaths never unlock

the magic of an Oreo cookie.

They bite straight into it, like a god damn ham sandwich.

- [Diarra sighs] - You got some milk?

He passed with flying colors.

So, that's when we made the deal.

We'd find his treasure, and he'd give me that drone

that would help free Chris.

Okay, so, this is our latest clue.

It's supposed to tell us where to go,

but I don't get it.

You?

BOOKER: Cain and Abel grow old.

DIARRA: What's that?

BOOKER: Whenever somebody was beefing when I was younger,

my granny used to say, "Cain and Abel should have grown old."

DIARRA: Hmm.

I guess it was a family saying.

It's a message from Dunc to his two sons.

See, they were beefed out.

So he's trying to tell them,

"Work together, find the treasure."

But they couldn't.

It's my mom-cation,

and you got me working like an Alabama slave.

Oh, no, thank you, Miss Anne, but breakfast was fire.

Bussin'.

The fuck. Hey, yo. There's a button here.

DIARRA: How do we miss this?

RAQUEEBA: Because you was drunk.

Shut up. Okay, same time. Ready?

- All right. - Go.

- Oh. - Oh.

BOOKER: "Your first move is the last stop."

Hmm.

Your first move is your last--

Does that mean anything to you?

- Last stop. - Train stop.

- Bus stop. - Wingstop.

- GameStop. - Okay, just stop.

So there would have been absolutely

zero GameStops in 1932,

but there would have been plenty of train stations.

- Dunc was Mr. Secrets, right? - Mm-hmm.

Which station was the most low-key?

DIARRA: Then it hit me.

Detroit was the last stop

for a famously low-key train.

A train stealth enough for an Alabama slave.

The Underground Railroad.

And the last stop on the Underground Railroad was?

BOTH: Trinity Rose Baptist Church.

- Mm, mm. - Okay.

DIARRA: We were off to a great start.

[phone chimes]

Which meant I was ignoring my other prospective partner.

[tense music playing]

The Underground Railroad.

And the last stop on the Underground Railroad was?

BOTH: Trinity Rose Baptist Church.

- DIARRA: Mm, mm. - RAQUEEBA: Okay.

Holstein, I got a line on some evidence

that exonerates Chris.

I'm going to bring you the real Coney killer.

Stop sending me to voicemail, God damn it.

[road din]

And so I hustled back to the same fateful place

where somebody blew up my car.

A not-so-subtle message to back off.

But I was full steam ahead,

hoping to catch up with Lady Killer

before she again caught up with me.

TEA: There she is. Hey, friend.

- Hi, bookie. - Okay.

- [Aja grunts] - All right, let's do it.

WANDA: All aboard

for the Trinity Rose Underground Railroad Tour.

I'm your conductor, Sister Wanda.

Whoo-hoo! Come on in.

DIARRA: I took my students on the Trinity Tour twice a year

and knew the history by heart.

But the church was hiding Dunc's next clue,

and we were going to find it.

Can't we just choke Booker out

'til he agrees to go to the cops?

What? No.

If we piss that boy off,

we could lose the footage forever.

Finding the treasure

is the fastest way to ID Lady Killer.

And it'll show Chris wasn't there

- at the time of the shooting. - [cane thudding on floor]

I won't allow no side-talking, and I won't be trifled with.

Now, I'm sure you notice I carry the peace

that surpasses all understanding.

Now, I'm a caring person,

but nobody messes with this holy ground on my watch.

- Come this way. - DIARRA: I don't know why

I ever doubted Booker's story.

Shit, half the grannies in the D were packing.

Okay, keep your eyes open for any sign of Dunc.

Masonic symbol or a keyhole, okay?

- Break. - WANDA: Back in 1851,

when Trinity Rose was founded by free Blacks,

the slaves stayed down here, waiting for the perfect time

to cross the Detroit River to Canada into freedom.

And now for the interactive portion of the tour.

I'm gonna kill the light

so that you can feel what the slaves felt

alone down here with only their thoughts,

fears, and the good Lord.

[woman sobbing]

DIARRA: It was hard not to imagine

the greatest escape in history

and the terror the runaways must have felt.

Okay, girl.

I can't console no white woman on the Underground Railroad.

- I'm sorry. - Hell no.

Okay.

Did y'all see anything?

- Not yet. - No.

Maybe all the crying reminded me of babies.

Or maybe being under a church reminded me

there was one confession I still needed to make to my friends.

- Royce offered me his sperm. - [Aja gasps]

TEA: To drink?

What? No!

Come on back with me to boring hetero sexual land.

- To go half on a baby. - Why?

What, because his man clock is ticking,

and we'd make cute babies.

What? Apparently, I'd be a very fun co-parent.

That's insane.

Didn't he act like a asshole

when you got pregnant back in the day?

Yes, but he was having a hard time then.

He's different now. Things are different.

Dee, I know you not in the Underground Railroad

and you talking about going backwards?

I am on the Underground Railroad talking about

freeing myself from conventional paradigms.

And it's-- it's less complicated

because I'm not in love with him.

But the man has good, smart, athletic semen.

It's blue chip semen.

No, y'all not down here talking about semen.

I did say semen, yes.

- Hmm. - DIARRA: Um...

Because I, um, from a historical standpoint,

was wondering, you know,

if the runaways ever had sex down here.

Inappropriate question.

But I'll allow it because it's a first.

Yes, I think they did.

We some good-looking people.

- And adrenaline was pumping. - Pumping.

Come this way.

She gonna fucking shoot us.

Here you'll see what the escapees found.

Two pails of water and a husk of corn,

which doubled as a snack first,

toilet paper later.

[person sobbing]

It was a test in mental and physical endurance.

All they had to look at was each other

and these four walls.

Miss Wanda, what's the story with this wall?

Did they brick it over recently or...

Ain't no story. It's a brick wall.

DIARRA: I was sure that wasn't true.

Dunc's next clue was behind it.

I was supposed to follow the gold.

That's when I knew I'd correctly deciphered

Dunc's Easter egg.

In the Cain and Abel painting, the doorway is open.

[scoffs] There's something behind that wall.

Okay, so?

So, we need to cut open that gate

and tear down that wall.

Yeah, but Dee, that don't sound quiet or legal.

So?

- I got the tea. - Okay.

Listen, it's a historic site,

so nothing can be altered without federal approval.

And Miss Wanda's not our only gun nut.

Armed security 24-7

since that preacher got shot off Seven Mile.

Oh, no.

So, only time we stand a chance

at breaking in is when Miss Wanda

and her team are at worship.

So, we come back tomorrow for Sunday service?

- Yes. - Praise and worship

should be loud enough

for us to do whatever we need to do to break bricks.

- Yes. - The one time y'all come

to church for me, it's on some BS.

Oh, the Lord will forgive you, Aja.

- It's for a righteous cause. - Your heart is pure.

- He gonna bless it. - [phone vibrating]

Oh.

Cousin. Yo.

We have a serious fucking problem.

Cartier knows where you stay.

- Oh. - RAQUEEBA: "Nice escape.

"Now, where the fuck is my shooter? Tick tock."

- Well-- - RAQUEEBA: And he left

his damn number, girl.

Okay, whatever you do,

don't let Booker see it.

He's skittish enough, and we need him.

RAQUEEBA: So, are we giving up baby Suge Knight?

What? No, Raqueeba.

Of course I'm not turning him over to that lunatic.

Dee, what the fuck are we gonna do?

I have a kid to go home to.

I don't know, Raqueeba. I'm trying to figure that out.

The pressure to find Lady Killer was coming from all sides,

and the pressure building inside my own chest was nearly as bad.

[tense music]

My hair. Oh, thank you, Jesus.

I feel like the Lord and I could share credit.

AJA: Thank you.

No, no, I got you. I got you.

- I got you. - Oh, sorry.

Thank you, Priest.

Royce said you needed a favor.

And I got a homie that's big shit at the port,

so it wasn't no big thing.

- You know what I'm saying? - Thank you.

- You're saving my life. - I got you.

Right here.

Thank you.

You don't seem too used to folks doing you favors.

Oh, small business owner, baby.

I'm used to getting everything out the mud during a rainstorm.

- Damn. - [Aja chuckles]

That sound kind of stressful.

AJA: Um...

so, Priest, you're-- you're not, like,

officially ordained, are you?

[laughs] No.

If you bless enough heads, the name sticks.

And I give a pretty good shampoo.

Thank you.

Wouldn't mind giving you the full blessing sometime, though.

Oh, uh...

[laughs] I'm sorry.

Um, Priest, I think I'm going to

drive my little Buick Envista to the shop

and get back to work.

What about tonight?

You don't know how many bald-headed sisters

is cursing my name,

so I got to get this hair sorted and delivered.

Hey, you know, don't mind me.

Just trying to get you out that rainstorm.

Sometimes getting it out the mud is a little overrated,

you know what I'm saying?

[phone vibrating]

Oh, I got to take this.

I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry.

Hey, Mary? Hey.

Yeah, I was just about to call you.

Yeah, mm-hmm. First thing Monday morning.

Right now?

Put your pistol down, Mary. I said I'm coming.

Shit. Thank you. I'll call you.

[mellow guitar music]

You know that guy?

DANGER: No. Just this shooting I read about in Detroit.

Tell me they had my Faygo.

- Strawberry. - Red.

- Just red pop. - Close enough.

[Diarra grunting]

So, I think I like a barber.

Oh, a priest and a nun.

I love it.

I was relieved

she wasn't talking about Harley as a suitor.

I had no idea she was dancing around her own perfect storm.

No, he's not just a barber.

He owns his own shop.

Look...

Tell me that's not somebody that I can't launch

a his-or-her hair brand with.

Maybe try to launch dinner and drinks first.

Okay.

I need to make sure he can match my hustle.

I can't be entertaining no bullshit.

How many church peppermints do you need?

Wait for it.

[laughter]

Okay. [grunts]

May the joyful noise of the church

cover our break-in.

- Hallelujah. - Amen.

AJA: Oh, God, forgive us.

CECIL: Beautiful, brother. Thank you. Thank you.

Oh, we are few in number, but we are many.

Saints,

let's welcome our guests.

Always nice to see the youth represented.

Oh, the youth.

- Are we the youth? - Yes.

I think he means comparatively.

I had heard the church was dying,

but this was crazy.

An old and quiet congregation.

[coughing]

There was no way we were busting down walls.

CECIL: The word is, Hebrews, chapter 13, verse eight.

- Jesus... - AJA: Oh.

- ...is the same... - Yeah.

CECIL:... yesterday, today...

- Amen. - CECIL:... and forever.

DIARRA: I was starting to realize why Booker's desk

had gone unnoticed in the nursery.

God in his infinite grace is consistent with us.

- WANDA: Amen. - That's right.

Why is it so sparse?

Oh, I ain't one for gossip.

DIARRA: She wasn't one for gossip.

She also wasn't one for leaving anything out.

WANDA: But it's all Keke's fault.

The pastor's ex-wife.

Uh-huh. Heavenly voice, worldly woman.

She abandoned Trinity when they split.

Most folks ain't been back since.

...even if it means we have to leave them behind.

- [organ playing] - He's preaching, okay?

WANDA: Most days, we half this many.

Well, Gregory's wife died,

so the casserole brigade has descended.

But he on dialysis.

- He can't do nothing. - Oh.

But he do got two quarters to rub together,

so I guess them old chicks don't mind embarrassing themselves.

DIARRA: Mm-hmm. Mm-hmm.

[off-key vocalizing]

[coughing]

With no opening for an escape,

my mind wandered.

Could one of these hip replacement candidates

be Lady Killer?

Well, I knew at least one of them was armed.

Just like Ezekiel, when he saw that wheel

and that big wheel run by what?

That big wheel run by faith!

I hear someone here is in need of healing.

- Today, Lord... - Yes, Lord.

...someone's having trouble with their heart.

Help them, Lord.

They need a stent.

You need a surgery.

DIARRA: And I needed to get Booker his treasure.

CECIL: If I'm talking to you, come on down to the altar.

If I'm talking to you, you come on down.

He's talking about me.

DIARRA: I was done with conjecture.

And me.

I needed that drone.

- I'll cover for you, okay? - Me? Why me?

Because I've seen your arms before, Tea.

Do I look like I'm about to break down a brick wall?

- This is our best shot. - Fine, fine, fine.

Okay, okay.

CECIL: Everyone, come on down.

- [indistinct] - Line up in the front.

I'm coming, Lord. Excuse me, excuse me. Excuse me.

Stop playing in the house of the Lord.

- Excuse me, excuse me. - Sit yo ass down.

DIARRA: I am so sorry. Excuse me.

This way, this way.

CHURCH LADY: Hey, now I'm first.

- AJA: Diarra, stop! - Get in line.

DIARRA: Sorry. Okay.

CECIL: Tell us your name, sister.

I'm Rohandra.

Rohandra!

Are you feeling trouble in your heart?

Do you need a healing?

DIARRA: I really did.

Did I want Chris's smile or Royce's baby?

There was no escaping it. It was time for a come to Jesus.

Yeah.

I guess I really am...

feeling torn.

You know, and my heart is just-- It's tore up.

You say tore up, God says wholeness.

Bathroom?

CECIL: If you believe...

AJA: Where you going?

CECIL: Amen!

Next. All right, sister.

- Amen. - Hold on.

- Hold-- hold-- hold on. - Who next?

Okay, I still need to testify.

And God is asking me to get on the mic.

- Well, I'll hold on to the mic. - Oh, okay. All right.

Nah, I'll hold onto the mic.

All right, I just-- All right, I just want to say that

God brought me through this ghetto battle.

And, um, the Lord brought me through.

Um, I'm wondering if I could just...

What-- And your heart is healed. Next!

Can I please just testify, Pastor?

This isn't--

[whoops]

I feel like

there's this choice that I want to make, but I can't.

- And I just-- I can't face it. - Well--

Well, I can assure you that

that choice has been made for you.

- In Jesus' name. - Amen. I just--

- If I could just-- - Who's next?

DIARRA: Can I just get

- a little organ? - CECIL: You're-- you're healed.

If I can just get a little bit of organ.

Maybe if we could all just, you know, everybody just get loud.

If you got good knees, get up on 'em!

Y'all not that old.

- Stop. Please stop. - ♪ Every time I ♪

- Bless the Lord. - ♪ Feel the spirit ♪

Can we have security up in here?

DIARRA: Come on now, get up. Use those hips!

The bathroom ain't down here.

It's into the hall on the right.

- TEA: Thank you. - Mm-hmm.

Get to getting it.

DIARRA: We'd hit a brick wall.

I could feel the whole situation running out of God's favor.

We need to distract the church-rent-a-cops,

but not attract the real cops.

Then maybe we could get this thing done.

- We could pull the fire alarm. - That'll attract firefighters.

We could use some poison darts and knock them out

- for like an hour or something. - What are we, James Bond?

There's already one of us in jail.

- That's plenty. - TEA: Right.

We're not assaulting anybody that works at a church.

Amen. Y'all niggas is real iffy, but I'm saved.

DIARRA: On Sundays.

Maybe... maybe we just explain all of this to Pastor Cecil.

He don't want to hear from you, Rohandra.

- Thank you. - Nah, that's not going to go.

He all about rules.

The pastor would say leave the wall alone.

So maybe we do need to knock out

a couple of these church people.

Just-- Wait. Hold on.

Just for, what'd you say, an hour?

Two hours tops.

AJA: Okay. You know what? All right, stop.

I don't know if it's just me,

but I can hear the fat lady singing.

- Girl, me too. - AJA: We don't even know

if this treasure hunt shit is even real.

Okay, hold on, hold on.

We're talking about $100 million.

- It's 100% real. - How do you even know that?

- I wouldn't go-- - RAQUEEBA: Okay,

that's enough of this shit.

All I wanted was to enjoy my mom-cation.

But I can't because everybody in here

in need of some ungentle parenting.

Okay, Raqueeba, could you just maybe take--

- RAQUEEBA: Shut up, girl. - AJA: Ooh.

You're done.

You're keeping your unhinged ass

out those people's church.

You about to get yourself killed.

You lucky you even made it out of Brightmoor.

Shit, niggas try to string out

a little luck and it bite them in the ass every time.

That's what I be saying.

Okay, you really acting like grandma right now.

You know what?

You gon' accept this sperm,

you need to learn how to check these kids.

- Sperm? - It's a--

RAQUEEBA: Baby, I'm very sorry.

But we are done treasure hunting like we the ghetto Goonies.

You putting on your big boy pants

and you giving us that footage right now.

Fuck that and fuck you.

Me and her had a deal.

The video for my treasure.

You didn't make it with me.

All right, I'm out then.

DIARRA: Hold on. Wait, wait, wait, wait, wait.

No, no, it's cool, it's cool, it's cool.

- You ain't goin-- - Calm down.

- Give us the tape. - DIARRA: Everybody calm down.

[overlapping shouting]

Hey, I said calm down! Hey, hey!

Get the fuck off. You big--

- [Aja screaming] - Okay!

- TEA: Shit! - Everybody, stop!

Shit! We are supposed to be on the same team.

I didn't have shit else to say besides that.

I'd had an answer for everything.

A plan. A theory. But...

Are you okay?

Hey.

Hey, hey. Are you okay?

Get off me, man.

She's right.

Queeba's gonna make a nice dinner.

We all gon' eat it.

And then I'm gonna need you to take

that drone footage to the cops.

Listen to me.

My ex is a lawyer, okay?

He's-- he's that bald guy on all the billboards.

I hate him.

But I'm gonna call him

and have him meet us at the station.

I'm not leaving you.

We're still partners.

Okay.

Okay?

[Aja sighs]

[Diarra sighs]

DIARRA: It was an impossible choice.

But there was no escaping it.

Okay.

[Aja sighing]

- Thank you. - [phone ringing]

The hell kind of ringtone is that?

It's not a ringtone. It's the alarm to my shop.

[gasping] Oh, my God!

Why? They're breaking into my shop.

- What? - Call 911. I gotta go.

No, no, no, no. Hey, hey, I'll drive.

- I got her. - Okay.

- Come on, Tea. It's code red! - I got her. I got her.

DIARRA: Call me as soon as you know something.

AJA: What the hell?

[tire air blowing]

Militia ass motherfuckers.

White girl gonna get my ass killed.

You want a drink?

Fuck it, sure.

DIARRA: Yeah, let's get it.

That's some crazy ass friends you got.

- Thank you. - Mm-hmm.

You know, it's weird being back in this house.

This used to be my grandmother's house.

You know that?

- No. - Yup.

No wonder it came partially furnished.

I thought a lot of this shit was way too nice to be Ron's.

Yeah, damn straight.

So he got the house, you got the desk.

Yeah.

Hold on. Stay here.

I hope it's still here.

DIARRA: And that's when Booker told me

the story of Duncan Duckett.

All right, so this is the way

my grandma used to tell me this story when I was little.

Dunc's dad, he built a house

in Mississippi with his bare hands.

First thing in our family to ever be owned proper.

Shit.

But the Klan burned it to dust,

and only one piece of wood survived.

So, he pulled it out the ashes...

carved a cross into it...

and told him to keep it.

That way, he'll always be protected.

Maybe it did for a while.

[laughs] Sure enough, it did.

He escaped the South.

Came to Detroit with two hands full.

One full of pennies,

the other one with that burnt piece of wood.

- And guess what? - What?

He started off, you know, digging up sewers and stuff.

But he ended up making himself a fortune.

Huh.

And when he had that J and P made,

he had them build that burnt plank right into it.

You know, my granny, she didn't know much about Dunc.

But she knew that our soul of our family

was stitched into that desk.

That's why no matter how pissed or frustrated I got,

I never put an axe to that shit.

It served as a living prayer for my protection, too.

DIARRA: I felt like shit.

I was trying to quiet the part of me

that still wasn't sure if me or that desk

could protect him from Cartier.

- [imitating plane engine] - Oh, shit.

This is pretty cool.

- [phone vibrating] - [imitating gunfire]

[Diarra groans]

Hello?

CHRIS: Hey, Dee, it's me.

Chris.

Hi. I-- I was...

Oh, my God.

CHRIS: You busy?

One sec.

Booker, that was a beautiful story,

but I have got to take this, okay?

You have terrible fucking timing, bro.

- CHRIS: You got a second? - No, no, no, no, no, no.

Of course I want to talk to you.

Just hold on, okay?

[whispering] Raqueeba, keep an eye on him.

RAQUEEBA: Okay.

[sighing] Oh. I missed you so much.

Are you okay? Are you eating?

CHRIS: Yeah, yeah, I'm okay.

I saw Mac today.

Tellin' me you were out there doing the most.

Diarra, I don't need you doing that.

Well, baby, I got to get you home.

CHRIS: I've been thinking about that. Look.

DIARRA: I knew there had been a fucking "look."

CHRIS: Just trying to process it.

Please don't process that look.

CHRIS: Diarra, we need to talk.

I can assure you that that choice has been made for you.

Stop.

Please be quiet. I can't do this right now.

I got to go. I love you. Goodbye.

[sighing]

It was illogical,

but I wasn't quite as torn as Rohandra thought.

I didn't want to let him go.

BAILEY: Oh.

What are you doing out here?

I was just getting some fresh air.

Hop in.

Nah, it's cool. I can walk.

- I was about to head back. - Hop in.

TEA: What they mean gone?

They mean gone, gone.

Tea, three huge boxes of single donor virgin hair.

- Fuck! - Wait, wait, wait.

- Everything? - Yeah,

minus the few bundles that I gave Mary yesterday.

God, it's like somebody knew that they was here.

Hold up.

Tea, besides y'all, I only confessed to one person.

Well, you know we ain't take it.

DIARRA: That's when I realized,

what if I couldn't let go

because Chris had been right the entire time?

- You don't want kids? - No, no, no, no.

This world is fucked up as it is.

DIARRA: The world is fucked up.

I was about to throw Booker to the wolves to solve my case.

A motherhood challenge fail, I'm sure.

Why did I even still think I wanted kids?

Was I still that optimistic?

RAQUEEBA: Booker! Booker!

Hey, is Booker out there with you?

What? No, Booker's right...

Raqueeba, I asked you to watch him.

I was. I locked all the doors.

I thought I would hear him if he left.

Check the bathroom. Check upstairs.

- RAQUEEBA: Booker! - Booker!

RAQUEEBA: Booker!

DIARRA: Booker!

I thought I was the master of escape.

But really, it was Booker.

First, he escaped the Coney, then somehow my house.

But I was learning.

Every so-called clean getaway

only opens the door to fresh trouble.

Hands, hands, hands, hands!

- Yo, yo, yo. - Get on your knees!

- You ought to listen to me! - Huh?

Shut up!

[indistinct]

Who the fuck are you guys?

- I said shut up! - Help!

- Help! Help! - Shut up!

Help!

[tires screech]

DIARRA: And so just as soon

as trouble landed on my doorstep,

Booker and his drone were gone.