14. TRUTH #3
The words hung in the air between us, heavy and suffocating.
Raven’s gun was still raised, her finger resting near the trigger. “Truth, we need to go inside. Now.”
But I couldn’t move. I was frozen, caught between the man I’d just left and the sister trying to protect me.
“Truth,” Amai said, his voice softer now. “I’m not asking you to trust me blindly. I’m asking you to think. Really think. About how Kaisen found you. About how he knew exactly what to say. About how convenient it was that he showed up right when you needed someone.”
I wanted to argue. I wanted to tell him he was wrong.
But I couldn’t.
Because the more I thought about it, the more the pieces started to fit together.
Kaisen had been at the clinic. He’d known about the baby. He’d known about Amai.
And he’d pursued me anyway.
“I need time,” I finally said, my voice breaking. “I need time to figure this out.”
“You don’t have time,” Amai said, his voice hard again. “Kaisen is already making his move. And if you’re not with me, you’re vulnerable.”
“She’s not vulnerable,” Raven snapped. “She’s with her family. And we’ll protect her.”
Amai’s eyes flicked to Raven, and for the first time, I saw something dangerous flash across his face. “You can’t protect her from what’s coming.”
“Watch me,” Raven said, her voice steady.
Amai looked at me one last time, his expression unreadable. “When Kaisen shows up—and he will—remember what I told you. Remember that he knew. Remember that he chose to pursue you anyway. And ask yourself why.”
Then he turned and walked back to his car.
I watched him go, my heart pounding in my chest, my mind racing.
He didn’t beg. He didn’t plead. He didn’t try to force me.
He just laid out the truth—or his version of it—and left me to decide.
The Mercedes pulled away, and Raven finally lowered the gun.
“You okay?” she asked, her voice tight.
I nodded, even though I wasn’t sure if it was true.
Because Amai’s words were still echoing in my head.
Kaisen was at the clinic. He knew. He pursued you anyway.
And if that was true—if Kaisen had known all along—then everything I thought I knew about him was a lie.
And I had no idea who to trust anymore.
I walked up the three concrete steps to the front door, Raven right behind me. My legs felt heavy, like I was dragging myself through water.
The door swung open before I could knock.
Mama stood there in her house dress—faded purple with little white flowers—her hair wrapped in a silk scarf, her eyes sharp and assessing. She took one look at me, and her entire face changed.
“What happened?” she demanded, stepping aside to let us in.
“Nothing, Mama. I’m fine.”
“Don’t lie to me, Truth Renois.” Her voice was hard, cutting through my exhaustion like a blade. “You look like you been through hell and back. Now get in here and sit down.”
I stepped inside, the familiar smell of the house wrapping around me—coffee, incense, and the faint smell of onions from what Mama had been cooking earlier.
The living room was small, cluttered with mismatched furniture and family photos on every available surface.
The couch sagged in the middle, but it was clean. Everything was always clean.
I sank onto the couch, and Raven sat beside me, her hand resting protectively on my knee.
Mama stood in front of us, arms crossed, her gaze locked on me. “Now, tell me what the hell is going on.”
“Mama, I already told you on the phone—”
“You told me some bullshit about Amai’s brother and a clinic visit,” Mama interrupted, her voice rising.
“You didn’t tell me why you look like you about to fall apart.
You didn’t tell me why that man was blocking Raven’s car in my driveway with a gun pointed at him.
So, I’m asking again, what the hell is going on? ”
I opened my mouth, then closed it. Where did I even start?
“Truth.” Mama’s voice softened slightly, but the steel underneath didn’t waver. “Baby, I need you to talk to me. For real this time. Not the version you think I want to hear. The real version.”
I looked down at my hands, twisting them together in my lap. “I don’t even know where to start.”
“Start with Amai,” Mama said, sitting in the armchair across from us. “Who is he? And don’t tell me he’s just some man you doing surrogacy for. I wasn’t born yesterday.”
I swallowed hard. “He’s… complicated.”
“Complicated how?”
“He’s—” I hesitated, trying to find the words. “He’s powerful. He has money. He has people who work for him. He’s—”
“What does he do?” Mama asked, her eyes narrowing.
“I don’t know exactly.”
“You don’t know?” Mama’s voice sharpened. “You carrying this man’s baby, and you don’t know what he does for a living?”
“It’s not like that,” I said quickly. “It was supposed to be a contract. A surrogacy arrangement. Clean. Professional. I wasn’t supposed to—”
“But it is,” Mama finished, her gaze piercing. “You got involved. And now you sitting here looking like you don’t know which way is up.”
I felt tears prick at the corners of my eyes, but I blinked them back. “I didn’t mean for it to get this complicated.”
“Complicated,” Mama repeated, shaking her head. “Baby, complicated is when you can’t decide between two jobs. Complicated is when your car breaks down and you ain’t got the money to fix it. What you describing sounds dangerous.”
“It’s not—”
“Don’t.” Mama held up a hand, cutting me off.
“Don’t sit here and tell me it’s not dangerous when that man just pulled up to my house like he owns the world.
Don’t tell me it’s not dangerous when Raven had to pull a gun on him.
Don’t tell me it’s not dangerous when you look like you been running for your life. ”
I looked away, unable to meet her eyes.
“Who are his people?” Mama asked, her voice quieter now but no less intense.
My head snapped up. “Outside of his brother, I don’t know.”
“So, you don’t know anything about who these people are for real?”
“I don’t know,” I admitted, my voice barely above a whisper.
“You don’t know,” Mama repeated slowly, like she was trying to process the words. “You don’t know what Amai does. You don’t know what his father does. You don’t know who these people are. But you carrying a baby that might be theirs, and you caught up in some kind of war between two brothers.”
When she laid it out like that, it sounded insane.
“Mama, I—”
“And this other one,” Mama continued, leaning forward. “Kaisen. The one you been seeing. The one who took you to the clinic. What do you know about him?”
“I thought I knew him,” I said, my voice cracking. “I thought he was different. He was consistent. He was there when I needed someone. He made me feel safe.”
“And now?”
“Now I don’t know if any of it was real.” The words came out broken, raw. “Amai said Kaisen knew about the baby. He said Kaisen knew everything and pursued me anyway. He said it was all calculated.”
Mama was quiet for a long moment, her eyes searching my face. Then she leaned back in her chair and let out a long breath.
“Truth, baby, listen to me,” she said, her voice softer now but still firm. “These men—these Landry men—they ain’t like regular men. You understand that, right?”
I nodded, even though I wasn’t sure I fully understood.
“Regular men, they got jobs. They got problems. They got bills to pay and lives to live. But men like this?” Mama shook her head.
“Men like this, they operate on a different level. They got power. They got money. They got people who do things for them. And they don’t play by the same rules as the rest of us. ”
“I know,” I whispered.
“Do you?” Mama’s gaze was sharp again. “Because from where I’m sitting, it looks like you been moving through this blind.
You don’t know what Amai does. You don’t know what his family is capable of.
You don’t know if Kaisen was playing you or if he really cared.
You don’t know anything, Truth. And that’s dangerous. ”
“I’m trying to figure it out,” I said, my voice shaking. “I’m trying to—”
“Trying ain’t enough,” Mama interrupted. “You need to know. You need information. You need leverage. Because right now, you just a pawn in their game. And pawns get sacrificed.”
The words hit me like a punch to the chest.
“You think I don’t know that?” I asked, my voice rising. “You think I don’t know I’m caught in the middle of something I don’t understand? I’m trying, Mama. I’m trying to figure out who to trust and what’s real and how to protect myself and this baby. But I don’t know how.”
Mama stood and crossed the small space between us, sitting on the couch beside me. She took my hands in hers, her grip firm and warm.
“Then you start asking questions,” she said, her voice steady. “You start demanding answers. You stop letting these men tell you what you need to know, and you start finding out for yourself. You understand me?”
I nodded, tears spilling down my cheeks now.
“You my daughter,” Mama continued, her voice fierce. “You strong. You smart. You survived Phillip and his bullshit. You survived losing everything and starting over. You can survive this too. But you gotta be smart about it. You gotta stop being passive and start taking control.”
“How?” I asked, my voice breaking. “How do I take control when I don’t even know what I’m dealing with?”
“You find out,” Mama said simply. “You ask questions. You pay attention. You watch how they move, how they talk, who they call, where they go. You learn everything you can about these men and their family. And then you use that information to protect yourself.”
“What if I can’t?” I whispered.
“You can,” Mama said, squeezing my hands. “You will. Because you got something they don’t.”
“What?”
“You got nothing to lose,” Mama said, her eyes locked on mine.
“They got empires. They got reputations. They got power they trying to hold onto. But you? You already lost everything once. You know what it’s like to start from nothing.
And that makes you dangerous, baby. Because you ain’t afraid to burn it all down if you have to. ”
I stared at her, her words sinking in slowly.