It was a pleasant afternoon in the Bankhead neighborhood of Atlanta. The sun blanketed the sky, and the sound of construction from a new housing development filled the air.

As Jai Ferrell walked with her mother across from Liberty Baptist Church, they laughed and joked, their chemistry as natural as LeBron and Wade in the Finals.

Suddenly, a little girl paused while walking with her school group. She glanced up at Jai, shy but earnest. “You’re so pretty,” she said. Jai blushed and replied softly, “Awww, thank you.” The girl’s eyes sparkled, and her red polo glowed in the sunlight as she ran to catch up with her class.

For Jai, the moment was déjà vu. She had once walked these same sidewalks with her mother, orange soda in one hand, Funyuns in the other, headed to Liberty Baptist. Today,

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