Chapter Twenty-Seven Before Breakfast
“She’s my sister, y’all. I miss her.”
The smell of turkey bacon and cinnamon toast crept through the house as the sun peeked over the horizon.
It was Sunday morning—the kind of slow, soft morning that begged for second chances and hot coffee.
Sunni stood in the kitchen, wrapping a silk scarf over her twists, humming to herself as the coffee pot bubbled. Prince sat at the table, hoodie over his head, phone charging beside him. His Bible was cracked open in front of him—a quiet ritual he picked up weeks back that nobody ever asked about.
Then Kane walked in.
Not loud. Not fidgety. Just… present.
“Can I talk to y’all real quick?”
Sunni turned off the stove. Prince looked up.
“What’s up?” he asked.
Kane sat down across from him. Folded her hands like she was bracing herself.
“It’s about Minnie Girl.”
Sunni’s face didn’t change—not shocked, not tense—just patient.
“She’s my sister, y’all,” Kane said. “Not by blood, but… you know. I miss her.”
Prince raised an eyebrow but said nothing.
“I know who her sister is,” Kane went on. “I know who her daddy is. But Minnie didn’t do this. And I’ve been holding in so much anger, I forgot how to breathe around people who made me feel seen.”
Sunni walked over, sat next to her, and placed a gentle hand on Kane’s.
“You ain’t wrong for feelin’ that.”
Kane nodded slowly. “So I asked her to come to church today.”
Prince leaned back. “For real?”
“Yeah.” Kane turned to him. “I’m telling y’all first because I didn’t want Bunny or Dexter overhearing and flipping out. But… I trust y’all. And Ma, you said if there was any place God could fix stuff, it’s the church.”
Sunni smiled, her eyes glossy but proud.
“I did say that.”
“I don’t expect y’all to be cool with it right away,” Kane said. “But I just want y’all to be okay with me needing this.”
Prince was quiet for a beat.
Then he said, “I don’t like her sister. I probably never will.”
Kane nodded. “I get it.”
“But I liked Minnie,” he added, softer. “She ain’t fake. And if you need this to start healing, then… I’m with it.”
Kane blinked fast. Didn’t cry. But her shoulders dropped like the weight she’d been carrying all month just loosened a little.
Sunni squeezed her hand.
“Thank you for telling us, baby.”
At that moment, they heard Bunny stomping down the stairs, already arguing with Dexter about who was hogging the toothpaste.
The moment was over.
But the message was planted.
And Kane?
She was walking into church that morning not just with hope… but with support.