Chapter Twenty-Nine Still Standing
“See, what they didn’t know was… I already buried my father.”
Sunday morning air held that early kind of stillness—heavy with dew, but full of promise.
The church lot was half empty, the choir hadn’t even arrived yet. Sunlight kissed the bricks of the old sanctuary, and a breeze played with the hem of Kane’s skirt as she stood near the side entrance, scrolling slowly through nothing on her phone.
But she wasn’t checking her feed.
She was checking Minnie’s location.
Still three minutes away.
She smiled without meaning to.
Kane hadn’t told anyone she was waiting outside—not Sunni, not Prince, not even Bunny, who was inside the sanctuary already doodling on a church fan.
This was her moment. Their moment.
When Keisha’s car pulled into the parking lot, Kane’s breath caught in her throat for half a second.
The tires crunched gravel. The engine shut off.
And when the door opened, there she was—Minnie Girl—stepping out like a memory, like forgiveness in human form. Hair slicked, lavender dress swaying at her knees, nervous energy dancing in her eyes.
Kane stepped forward before she could stop herself.
She looked at Keisha briefly—and for the first time, not with resentment.
She tilted her head slightly and mouthed: Thank you.
Keisha blinked, surprised. But she nodded once.
No words needed.
What Marcus and Keisha didn’t know was that Kane had already made peace.
She buried her father the day she stood at his door and walked away without anger.
He wasn’t her hero anymore.
He wasn’t her villain either.
He was simply… done.
And standing here, waiting for her best friend, she felt light. Free.
Minnie walked up slowly.
Kane didn’t smile big. Just lifted one corner of her mouth and said:
“You showed up.”
Minnie nodded. “Told you I would.”
They stood there a moment—just the two of them, with church bells beginning to ring faintly in the background.
Then Kane held the door open.
“You comin’ in?”
Minnie grinned. “Only if you sit next to me.”
Kane smirked. “You ain’t never sat on the other side.”
And just like that, they walked into the church together.
Still girls.
Still growing.
Still standing.