Chapter Ten The Road Back
“I don’t know if I want him back… or to leave him buried forever.”
Sunni was on the porch again, barefoot with a cup of tea, her Bible sitting open but unread on her lap.
She didn’t look up when Kane sat beside her.
For a moment, neither of them said a word.
Just air, bugs, night.
Then Kane broke the silence.
“I talked to Minnie Girl today.”
Sunni’s hand froze on her cup.
“She didn’t even know at first. She didn’t know who I was. But when she found out, she was hurt. Not just ‘cause I ghosted her… but ‘cause she miss me. And Mama, I miss her too.”
Sunni nodded slowly. “I figured it was only a matter of time.”
Kane leaned back against the railing. “This whole thing feel like a trap. Like no matter what I do, I’m gon’ end up bleeding. If I forgive Daddy, I feel fake. If I keep hating him, I feel empty.”
Sunni’s voice came out low. Tired. “Welcome to my world.”
Kane looked over. “So what we do, Mama?”
Sunni exhaled hard.
“I been asking myself that every night since that woman showed me that damn photo.”
She took a sip of tea that had long gone cold.
“You know how hard I prayed after we buried him? How I begged God to give me peace? And then, just when I started sleeping through the night again, this happens. Like some cruel joke. Like the devil said, ‘Lemme see if she still got faith.’”
Kane stayed quiet, letting her mama speak her pain.
“I don’t know if I wanna see his face again,” Sunni said. “Part of me wants to knock on his door and slap him until my hand hurts. And the other part… the weak part… still loves him.”
“That ain’t weak,” Kane said softly. “That’s real.”
Sunni blinked fast, eyes wet.
“I don’t know if I want him back in our lives… or if it’s better to leave him buried forever. He made that choice. Not us. And now we stuck with the pieces.”
Kane rested her head on Sunni’s shoulder. “You don’t have to decide tonight.”
Sunni nodded. “But we can’t ignore it forever, either. This ain’t just my story anymore. It’s yours too. Y’all deserve truth… even if it hurts.”
They sat there as the porch light flickered behind them. Two women, generations apart but stitched together by grief, survival, and a man who chose silence over family.
Sunni wiped her face and kissed the top of Kane’s head.
“Whatever we do next,” she said, “we do it together. Slow and careful. No drama. No noise. Just truth.”
Kane smiled, the first real one in days. “Then let’s start there.”