Lies He Left Behind

Chapter One The Funeral That Broke Her

The wind blew different in Eads.

Not like the city winds of Memphis that carried barbecue smoke and sirens. This wind whispered in silence. In loss. In the kind of stillness that swallowed a person whole.

Sunni stood in black. Black dress. Black heels she ain’t worn since her cousin’s wedding. Black veil that didn’t hide the pain in her eyes. Her five babies stood beside her—too young to understand death, but old enough to feel it.

Kane, thirteen, stood like a statue. Arms crossed, face blank, trying to be strong like she always was. The second mother of the crew, but still just a little girl with a cracked heart.

Prince, twelve, kept wiping his face with his sleeve, like tears were something to be ashamed of. The man of the house now. That’s what people kept telling him. He hated it.

Dexter, ten, clung to Sunni’s dress, asking when Daddy was coming home. She didn’t have the strength to answer.

Bunny, six, loud and full of life, was quiet for once. She kept looking up at the sky like maybe God would send Marcus back if she wished hard enough.

And Natty, sweet baby Natty, five years old, sat on the grass near the casket playing with a flower. Too innocent to know this was goodbye. Her father would now only exist in bedtime stories and framed photos.

Sunni’s heart didn’t break. It shattered.

Right there beside an empty casket dressed up to look like closure.

No body had ever been recovered from Marcus’s burned-out SUV, but the police had found his wallet, his wedding band, and enough blood to tell the family not to expect him home.

The pieces of Sunni never did land right after that.

They had only been in Eads for two years. Marcus moved them here for a fresh start. Said the city was eating him alive. Said this was going to be their peace.

And for a while, it was.

She was a stay-at-home mom, raising their babies while Marcus worked long hours doing security and some side hustle he never talked much about. She cooked. Cleaned. Laughed. Loved. Prayed. Her whole life was within those four walls.

And now… it was empty.

Back at the house, the family buzzed around, eating chicken, drinking sweet tea, telling old stories like it would patch the hole in her chest. But once the last car pulled off and the house went quiet again, the real mourning began.

She sat in their bedroom, untouched from the day the police came. His cologne still on the dresser. His side of the bed untouched. His voice still echoing in her head.

She picked up his hoodie off the chair. Brought it to her nose. It still smelled like him. Still felt like home. And that’s when she let the sobs out—raw and deep like something had been ripped from her soul.

From the hallway, Kane peeked in. “Mama, you want me to put the kids to bed?”

Sunni nodded. No words.

That night, she lay in their bed alone for the first time in five years. The ceiling fan spinning. Her mind doing the same. She whispered up to the ceiling, to God, to Marcus—whoever might be listening.

“I don’t know how I’m supposed to do this.”

And somehow, the silence answered back, “You will.”