This story is part of The Dallas Morning News Homicide Project focused on sharing the stories of everyone killed in Dallas in 2024.

The back of Antrquwia Williams’ royal blue t-shirt features a large photo of a happy mother and her smiling adult daughters at a local blues festival.

The tunes were soulful and the dancing hot on that spring evening at the Culwell Center in Garland. At the heart of the action were the Williams women: mother Delores and her trio of daughters, Shantay, Antrquwia and Unetria, known to all as Mesha.

In the photo, taken during a break in the performance, Mesha nestled her head against Delores’ shoulder, Antrquwia leaning on the other side. Although the camera-shy Shantay declined to appear in the photo, it recalls one of the fondest moments the Williams sisters and their mother have shared in recent years.

That’s why Delores, Shantay and Antrquwia chose this image to adorn the commemorative T-shirt in honor of Mesha, 47, the baby of the family who was shot and killed on July 5 in a Lake Highlands apartment.

On the back, above the concert photo, you can read the words: “I will mourn you until I join you.”

Three generations of the Williams family, many wearing memorial T-shirts, gathered in Delores’ living room on a recent Thursday to talk about their lost loved one.

Mesha was an adventurous and fun person to be around. Wherever she went, she made sure to dress well. “She wore her jewelry and smelled good,” said Jimesha, Mesha’s 22-year-old daughter.

After a long pause, Delores fought back tears and said, “We all have our bad days, but his have been mostly good.”

Delores raised her daughters in Garland, where Mesha attended Garland High School. After graduation, she spent more than 20 years as a certified nursing assistant, including at the Dallas Rehabilitation and Wellness Center. “She was a hard worker,” Delores said. “She was especially good with older patients.”

In addition to her daughter, Mesha raised two sons, Daetreen and Jimmy. She was Gigi to her three young grandchildren. Jimesha especially loved that her mother laughed and joked. “Even if her jokes and stories were bad, we still laughed,” she said.

One of the stories Mesha and Antrquwia regularly told was about an exasperating bike ride to Garland Pool in Central Park when they were 10 and 11 years old.

“Mesha sat on the back of the bike and I helped her pump her milk all the way from my grandparents’ house,” Antrquwia recalls. When they arrived, they realized that the little sister, who had planned to change at the pool, had dropped her swimsuit top along the way.

Antrquwia was furious, but she searched with Mesha until they found him near their grandparents’ house. The story behind that lost swimming morning eventually turned into one of the sisters’ funniest memories.

On July 4, the day before Mesha died, she spent more than an hour on FaceTime with her mother. They talked about simple things: Despite it being a holiday, Delores had planned to stay out of the heat and watch Hallmark movies. Mesha had a chicken roasting in the oven and had to be at work by 2 p.m. She was hoping to find something fun to do with a girlfriend after she got off work late that night.

Before hanging up, Mesha said, “Mom, you know I love you.”

“I know and I love you too,” Delores replied.

Delores found herself crying from time to time throughout the day. “I didn’t know why. I kept asking myself, ‘Oh my God, why am I so scared today?’”

The next morning, Delores shared her grief with her two sisters during their usual three-way phone conversation. As they talked, her phone began to vibrate with calls from Mesha’s oldest son.

Daetreen had heard that a shooting had occurred at the apartment complex where DeMarcus Gates, 40, lived, with whom Mesha had been in an on-and-off relationship for a decade.

According to an arrest report, Mesha and Gates, both armed, were arguing in the apartment before several shots were fired. A woman who identified herself as Gates’ girlfriend persuaded him to come out of his apartment, according to the police account. Officers found Mesha dead inside with multiple gunshot wounds, and Gates was arrested on murder charges.

About six weeks after Mesha’s death, a Dallas County grand jury declined to indict Gates and he was released from jail. Grand juries are impaneled in secret to review the work of investigators and prosecutors and decide whether there is enough evidence to warrant a trial on criminal charges.

The Williams family maintains that Mesha was a victim of domestic violence. They are outraged that the grand jury did not try the case and do not believe that Mesha’s murder was thoroughly investigated.

“My sister deserves justice,” Antrquwia said, “but we don’t have money to pay a lawyer.”

Jimesha chimes in: “I’m so empty, so broken. I’m angry at everything. I’m hurt but I’m so angry.”

The weekend before Mesha died, she and Antrquwia had attended a family reunion in College Station. Every detail of the trip — sharing a room, eating breakfast together, shopping and swapping stories — is precious to Antrquwia.

She said their relationship was typical of sisters. Some days they got along well. Other days they didn’t.

“That weekend, we really enjoyed each other’s presence,” Antrquwia said before lowering her head and placing her hands palm to palm.

“God is in control,” she prayed. “Whatever happens after Mesha dies – and justice is done – will happen.”