Relatives were reluctant to talk too much about what Darius did for a living or his time in jail. Victoria said she didn’t know if he had a record.

He was an aspiring rap musician who recorded music with his friends. Victoria said she had hopes of Darius getting a straight job, perhaps even leaving the city with him and their children.

They never got the chance.

With the news of Darius’ death beginning to sink in, Victoria left the hospital sobbing, she recalled. “I couldn’t believe it. I ran, and I kept running, and I was crying. I couldn’t do nothing else. I ran. Got on the elevator. I ran downstairs and left out the hospital.”

Alfred drove her home. Before he dropped her off, as the sun rose over 3 million Chicagoans on Labor Day weekend, the two stopped at the apartment complex where Darius was shot. Residents told Victoria that Darius and the man who shot him were arguing and the shooter fired at close range.

“It was about nothing. Who can beat up who, that type of stuff. ‘I ain’t scared of you. I’ll pop you.’ That sort of stuff,’” she said.

On the Saturday after Darius’ death, a stream of friends and relatives (she said she’s the youngest of 12 children) went to Victoria’s house to console her and help with the kids. Her mother, Teresa, who lost her husband, Larry, a few months before, did as much as she could to help shoulder the load of chores.

“There was my mom, my four sisters, my nephew, my niece, my cousin and her baby’s daddy,” Victoria said. “We had a houseful. We had about seven children that were all in the house with mine.”

“They tried to make me smile and things like that. They said little jokes and little things what happened in the past. You know, things he used to do. How he was with the kids and stuff like that.”

Victoria and others who knew Darius described him as a devoted father, helping raise six children Victoria had from a previous relationship — Kierra, 14; Dasha, 13; Kiorionia, 11; Imani, 10; MaKilleyon, 9; and Dareon, 5 — loving them as his own, Victoria said. Darius also cared for two other children of his, each with other partners.

For the 11 children Darius left behind, the reality of their father’s absence hasn’t sunk in yet.

“It’s hard because I don’t want them to see me down. So we trying to basically do our normal, but it’s hard. I explained it to them, but my son still asks for him,” Victoria said.

For the newest addition to his family, still growing in her womb, they hadn’t even thought of a name yet.

“We were just going to let it flow like we’re used to,” she said. “He always comes up with the names.”

As for her future, Victoria is now determined to get out of Chicago, leaving behind not just the violence but also the memories of Darius that linger where she lives.

“I can’t stay out here. It don’t feel right. It don’t even feel right being in this house. When I walk out of the house, all I see is him walking the kids to school,” she said.

“He was a big help to me. The only help I had. The only help I ever had.”