Chapter Nineteen Sacred Space
“We gotta name the pain before we can bury it.”
The next morning came soft.
No chaos. No spilled cereal. No cartoons blasting through the living room.
Just quiet.
The kind that meant everybody had something on their mind, but nobody knew how to say it.
Sunni stood at the stove, flipping pancakes. Her hands moved, but her mind was stuck on last night—on the porch, on Kane’s words, on Marcus’s face crumbling like a man finally haunted by his own choices.
One by one, the kids came to the table.
Natty climbed into her usual seat beside Sunni. Dexter sat slow, eyes heavy. Bunny didn’t even argue with Prince about who got the extra syrup. And Kane sat last, quiet, but alert—like she’d already made up her mind to be ready for whatever came next.
Sunni placed the plates down gently. Then she sat, folded her hands, and looked at each of her babies.
“I’mma take y’all somewhere today,” she said. “Somewhere we can sit. Talk. Not just about last night… but about all of it. The past, the truth, the future.”
They all looked up.
Prince leaned forward. “Where we going?”
“Church,” she said. “But not for service.”
Dexter frowned. “Are we getting baptized?”
Bunny snorted. “You need to, with that mouth.”
Sunni smiled a little. “No baby. I rented a room in the back. The meeting room. It’s quiet. Safe. Ain’t nobody there but us.”
Kane nodded slowly.
“You ain’t takin’ us to therapy… but you kinda are.”
Sunni gave her a look. “Something like that.”
They loaded into the Tahoe after breakfast, dressed in hoodies, slides, and oversized emotions. The ride was quiet—not heavy like the night before, but thoughtful. Braced.
When they arrived at the church, the janitor unlocked the back room with a respectful nod. It was simple—a round table, soft chairs, a pitcher of water, a few Bibles on a shelf nearby.
Sunni waited until the door shut behind them.
She looked around at her children. Her circle. Her reason.
And then she sat down.
“I brought y’all here because this? What we goin’ through? It’s bigger than words we throw at each other in the kitchen.”
The kids nodded.
“I don’t want y’all carryin’ pain you don’t name. I don’t want y’all sufferin’ in silence, thinkin’ you gotta protect me. That ain’t your job.”
She looked at Kane.
“You protected me last night. You and Prince. And I’m grateful. But now it’s time to let all of y’all speak.”
She took a deep breath.
“This is your space. Say whatever you need to. Cry, cuss, ask questions. Don’t hold nothin’ back.”
She sat back.
Folded her hands.
And waited.
And for the first time since Marcus came back from the dead…
…the kids were finally ready to speak.