Chapter Twenty Their Truths
“We all carry something… but we don’t have to carry it alone.”
The meeting room was quiet.
The kind of quiet that doesn’t feel awkward—it feels necessary.
Sunni looked at her children—her tribe, her witnesses, her reminders that love still lived, even when trust got buried.
She nodded once.
“Who wants to go first?”
Dexter
Ten-year-old Dexter shifted in his seat, arms crossed tight.
“I used to tell people my daddy was a superhero.”
His voice was small, embarrassed.
“I made up stories. Told folks he got killed protectin’ somebody. Or that he was in the army and died on a mission.”
Everyone stayed silent.
“’Cause saying he got shot in a store made me feel like he was weak. And now… he ain’t even dead. He just didn’t want us no more.”
Sunni felt her chest tighten.
“I hate him for makin’ me lie.”
Bunny
Bunny threw her hands up.
“I don’t hate him,” she said. “I just don’t get him.”
Tears filled her eyes, but she didn’t let them fall.
“I waited for him. Every birthday. Every Father’s Day. I used to draw pictures and put ‘em under my pillow like it was magic. Thought he’d come back if I wished hard enough.”
She sniffed.
“Now I wish I ain’t wished at all.”
Prince
Prince’s voice was low.
“I tried to be him.”
Everyone turned to look.
“I watched the way he used to fix things, check the doors at night, say grace at the table. After he ‘died,’ I tried to be that man. For y’all. For Mama.”
He looked straight at Sunni.
“But I was just a kid. And I was mad at you too, Mama. For not telling us more. For acting like everything was okay when it wasn’t.”
Sunni nodded. “I know. And I don’t blame you.”
Prince blinked fast, but no tears came.
“I stopped believing in people. And now that he back… I don’t even know what I want from him. Or if I want anything.”
Natty
Little Natty sat with her legs swinging from the chair.
She was only five.
But grief don’t skip age.
“Is Daddy a ghost?”
The question dropped like a pin on glass.
Sunni swallowed hard. “No, baby.”
“Then why he not come home?”
Sunni knelt beside her. “Because sometimes grown-ups break in ways kids can’t see. But it’s not your fault. Not even a little.”
Natty leaned into her mama and whispered, “I don’t want a new daddy. I just want my old one to love us.”
Sunni kissed her forehead.
“I know, baby. I know.”
Kane
Last was Kane.
She sat straight. Face unreadable.
“I used to dream he was alive.”
The others looked her way.
“Then I hated myself for dreaming it. For wanting someone back who chose to disappear.”
She paused.
“But now that I’ve seen him? I don’t feel anything. Just… numb.”
Her voice cracked then.
“I wanted him to say something that fixed it all. But he couldn’t. And I don’t think he ever will.”
Kane looked at Sunni.
“So I need you to tell us what happens now.”
Sunni looked at each of her kids.
Eyes red.
Hearts full.
She stood.
And she made her promise.
Sunni’s Promise
“I can’t undo what he did. I can’t bring back those years. But I can promise this…”
Her voice was steady now.
“From today on, y’all gon’ have peace. Real peace. No more pretending. No more pain hiding under pillows. No more silence.”
She looked around the room.
“I will protect your joy. I will protect your future. Whether that means we forgive him one day, or leave him behind forever… we decide. Nobody else.”
She wiped her eyes and smiled.
“I’ll never lie to y’all again. And I’ll never let this world make y’all feel like you weren’t worth staying for.”
And with that…
Five kids stood up.
And for the first time in a long time—
They hugged their mama…
And started to breathe again.