Chapter Eighteen After the Porch
“You died the day you decided we didn’t matter anymore.”
Marcus stood there—shoulders low, shame stitched into the lines around his eyes.
“I regret it every day,” he said. Voice cracked. Words brittle.
Sunni didn’t move.
The kids didn’t speak.
For a full moment, all anyone could hear was the wind brushing through the trees and the soft laughter of someone’s child echoing from a backyard nearby.
Prince stepped forward first.
His voice was calm.
But deadly.
“You think regret makes it right?”
Marcus looked at him—his son, taller now, voice deeper. No longer the boy who ran to him when the thunder hit.
“You left five kids. You disappeared like we was a burden, not your blood. You watched us grieve you. We wore black for you. Mama buried an empty box for you.”
Marcus opened his mouth—but Kane’s voice cut in next, sharp like broken glass.
“You died, Daddy.”
She stepped next to her brother.
“You died the day you decided we didn’t matter anymore.”
Marcus’s eyes glistened.
Kane didn’t blink.
“And since you left us buried, we gon’ do the same. You want a second life? Keep it. But it won’t include us.”
Marcus staggered a step back.
No yelling.
No punches.
Just truth.
Painful. Direct. Final.
Sunni wiped her face. Still hadn’t said a word. But her breathing was hard. Chest rising. Chest falling.
Keisha peeked through the door, but no one called for her.
Prince turned.
Kane followed.
They walked down the porch steps without looking back.
Sunni stepped off last. Eyes locked on Marcus one last time.
She didn’t scream.
She didn’t spit.
She just said four words:
“Now you know loss.”
Then she got in the car.
And they pulled off.
And Marcus stood on the porch of his picture-perfect life…
…with five empty seats he’d never fill again.