Chapter Twenty-Eight Just Me
(Minnie Girl’s POV)
“Please let me have this.”
The house was quiet, but not peaceful.
Minnie Girl sat on the edge of the twin bed she’d been calling hers for the past two months—a bed with pink sheets that weren’t hers, in a house that didn’t smell like her mama’s cocoa butter or her older brother’s cologne.
This wasn’t home.
Her mama had gone into rehab back in May. Said it was time. Said she was tired of dragging everybody down with her. Keisha offered to help, said family’s family, and blood don’t turn its back.
Minnie had been grateful.
Until she realized she was just another extension of his world. Marcus’s.
She tried to keep her head down, stay out the way.
But it was hard watching Marcus be a father to Zora and KJ when she knew Kane, Bunny, Natty, Prince, and Dexter were out there—hurt, healing, and hating everything he stood for.
She never said it out loud, but she felt like a spy. Like being in Keisha’s house made her guilty by association.
So when her phone buzzed the night before with Kane’s name on the screen, her heart damn near exploded.
Kane:
My mama said God fixes everything.
Can you come to church with me on Sunday?
Minnie stared at it for so long the screen dimmed twice.
Then she texted back.
Yes. I’d like that.
Now it was Sunday morning.
She put on the one dress she had that wasn’t wrinkled or too tight. The lavender one with sleeves that made her feel like she mattered. She brushed her edges back with Keisha’s gel and slipped on a pair of black flats.
When she stepped into the kitchen, Keisha was already making noise with pots and toddler voices.
“You look cute, girl,” Keisha said, not looking up. “Where you off to?”
“Church,” Minnie said, trying to sound casual.
“Oh good! Me and the kids will come with. Let me grab KJ’s shoes—”
“No.”
Minnie’s voice was firmer than she expected.
Keisha looked up.
“No?” she repeated, eyebrows raised.
Minnie swallowed hard. “Just me.”
Keisha blinked.
“This has nothing to do with you,” Minnie said, voice shaking but steady. “Or Marcus. I need… my friend back. Just this one thing. Please.”
Keisha leaned against the counter.
“You know it’s messy.”
“I know.”
Keisha sighed.
“I can’t let you go by yourself, Minnie. You a minor. And that ain’t exactly neutral ground.”
Minnie’s voice cracked. “Then take me and drop me off. I won’t stay all day. I just need this.”
“You can’t catch no Uber?”
“I can’t catch an Uber,” Minnie snapped, suddenly emotional. “I can’t catch peace in this damn house half the time.”
Keisha’s face softened.
They stood in silence for a moment.
Then Keisha nodded slowly.
“Alright. I’ll drive you.”
Minnie exhaled, eyes burning but dry.
“Thank you.”
Keisha reached for her car keys, then paused.
“You sure this is a good idea?”
Minnie didn’t hesitate.
“No. But it’s the right one.”