tootie

October 2026

Wunmi's house looked like a storm had completely wrecked it. Drawers were pulled open, clothes spread all over the place, shoes were kicked off in random directions, and couch cushions had been tossed aside. Even the kitchen had things out of place, which never happened.

Wunmi stood in the middle of the living room with her phone pressed between her ear and shoulder while she dug through yet another bag for what felt like the hundredth time.

“I don’t understand,” she muttered tightly. “I don’t lose things like this.”

On the other end, Michael was quiet for a second, listening to the sound of things shifting and falling in the background.

“Hey, slow down,” he said, calmer than she felt. "You’re tearing the whole place up.”

She let out a sharp exhale, dropping the bag onto the floor before moving to the next thing.

“I already did tear the whole place up,” she shot back, her accent heavily slipping through. “It’s gone, Michael. I’ve looked everywhere.”

He leaned back in his chair on set, phone pressed to his ear, eyes tracking the movement around him. He ignored the faint sound of someone calling for him to be ready in a few minutes.

“It’s not gone, you just misplaced it, baby,” he said steadily.

Wunmi laughed, but there was no humor in it. She yanked open a drawer, rifling through it quickly.

“The one time I take it off and it goes missing,” she said, her voice starting to crack.

Michael’s jaw tightened slightly at that.

“When did you take it off?”

She paused, thinking, her movements slowing for a second.

“The night I washed my hair. I didn’t want it slipping off or getting caught, so I put it—” She stopped, her brows pulling together. “I put it on the counter I think.”

Her hands moved faster again, more frantic now that she was second-guessing herself.

“Wunmi, stop moving for second,” he said firmly.

She didn’t.

“I can’t stop,” she snapped, moving into the living room and dropping to her knees to check under the couch again. “It’s not here.”

He exhaled slowly through his nose, trying to stay patient.

“Aye, listen to me,” he called. "It's fine we'll find it and if we don't—"

Her movements slowed just a little.

“I don’t want another one,” she cut in quickly, sitting back on her heels, her chest rising and falling. “You paid too much money for this one, Michael.”

He shook his head, a small frown forming.

“I don’t care about that.”

“Well, I do,” she said immediately, pushing herself up and started to pace. “And it’s not even just that. You—you really thought about it and took the time to pick it out.”

He rubbed his hand over his mouth, leaning forward slightly.

“And I’ll easily do it again,” he said.

She huffed under her breath, shaking her head like he just wasn’t getting it.

“That’s not the point,” she murmured.

On his end, someone tapped his shoulder lightly. He nodded without looking at them, waving them off for a second.

“Give me a minute.”

He turned his attention fully back to her.

“Alright, listen. You probably left it at my place,” he said.

Wunmi stopped pacing immediately.

“…No, I didn’t.”

“You might’ve,” he pressed. “Think about it. Last time you were here—”

“That was a week ago,” she cut in, frustration creeping back in. “And I didn’t take it off there.”

He paused, tilting his head slightly.

“You sure?”

“Yes, I’m sure,” she said. “Why would I take it off there and not put it back on?”

He shrugged even though she couldn’t see it.

“I don’t know. You do a lot when you’re over here.”

That earned him a small, irritated huff.

“Michael,” she warned.

He let out a quiet breath, easing back a little.

“Alright, alright. All I’m saying is it’s somewhere. It didn’t just disappear.”

She didn’t respond right away. Instead, she turned slowly, looking over the mess of her home again. The reality of it hit her and her eyes started to burn.

“I don't like not having it on,” she admitted softly.

“Hey, don't do that,” Michael said gently.

She pressed her lips together, blinking a few times as she crouched down again, picking up a pillow just to check under it as if she hadn’t already done that ten times before.

“I just—” she started, her voice wobbling slightly. “You were so thoughtful with it. And now I’ve just lost it and you're being far too calm.”

“Because you're doing enough panicking for the both of us, baby. I'm not going to say it again but you didn't lose it, you just misplaced it." he said.

She didn’t argue, but she didn’t agree either.

“Michael—”

“I’m serious,” he cut in. “You don’t need to stress yourself out like this. It’s not worth it.”

She let out a long breath, some of the tension leaving her shoulders, but not all of it.

On his end, someone called out for him again. He closed his eyes briefly, exhaling.

“I gotta go,” he told her.

Wunmi nodded even though he couldn’t see it, her fingers fidgeting with the edge of a blanket.

“…Okay.”

He didn’t hang up right away.

“You good?” he asked.

She hesitated.

“…I’ll be fine.”

He didn’t fully believe that.

“Stop tearing your house up and take a break. I'll look for it when I get back. And if we can't find it then I'll get you another one,” he spoke lightly.

“Okay,” she said finally, even though it wasn’t fully okay.

“Alright,” he replied.

“…Be careful. I love you,” she added quietly.

“I love you too.”

The call ended and wunmi stood there in the middle of the mess. Her eyes drifted back down to her bare finger. It just felt so wrong.

She swallowed, pressing her lips together before letting out a slow breath. Her gaze moved around the room one more time, then she shook her head slightly, stepping over a pile of clothes as she moved toward the couch. She sank down into it, exhaustion finally catching up to her.

Wunmi sat there for a while, staring at nothing. Her mind tried to retrace every step she’d taken over the last few days. She pressed her lips together, then pushed herself up from the couch with a quiet exhale.

If she wasn’t going to find it right now, then she at least wasn’t going to keep living in the middle of a disaster. So she started with the living room. She picked things up and put them back into place. Every now and then her eyes would flick down to her hand out of habit, but each time it annoyed her.

She cleaned the kitchen next. Then moved to her bedroom. She was haflway through folding her thrown around clothes when her phone rang from somewhere behind her. She paused, listening for a second before turning and spotting it on the bed. She was able to that it was her good friend Danielle Brooks calling her.

Wunmi blinked, then walked over, picking it up and answering as she sat down on the edge of the mattress.

“Hello?”

“Wunmi!” Danielle’s voice came through bright and warm, full of energy. “Girl, where have you been?”

A small smile pulled at Wunmi’s mouth instantly.

“I’ve been around. You're the one that's been busy,” she said lightly, tucking one leg under herself.

“Okay, that’s fair,” Danielle laughed. “But still. I feel like I haven’t seen you seen you in forever.”

“Same,” Wunmi admitted, her voice softening just a little.

“So what you doing today?” Danielle asked.

Wunmi glanced around her half-clean room

“Nothing, really. Just at home,” she said.

“Perfect. That means you can come out to lunch with me,” Danielle replied immediately.

Wunmi huffed out a quiet laugh.

“You didn't even ask me!”

“Why would I? And I'm not taking no for an answer, so don't say it,” Danielle said.

Wunmi shook her head, smiling despite herself. “I wasn’t going to say no.”

“Good, because I already have the reservations made,” Danielle said. “So you're definitely coming?”

Wunmi hesitated for half a second, her thumb brushed lightly over her ring finger without thinking.

“I’ll come,” she said.

“I'll send you the address because I’m already on the way there, so don’t take forever.”

Wunmi laughed softly. “I won’t.”

“Alright, I’ll see you in a bit.”

“Okay.”

The call ended and Wunmi immediately got to work.

She stood in front of her closet for a minute, scanning her options before deciding on something simple. Once she was dressed, she moved to the mirror, smoothing her hands over her outfit, adjusting small things here and there.

Her gaze lifted to her reflection then dropped. Her bare hand came up slightly.

“…It’s fine,” she murmured to herself.

She reached for her shades, sliding them on before grabbing her purse. The sun hit her with a warmth as soon as she stepped outside. She locked her door, adjusted her bag on her shoulder, then headed to her car.

During the entire drive, Wunmi had the music on low playing softly in the background with er fingers tapping lightly against the steering wheel.

Eventually she pulled up to the restauraunt. She parked, grabbed her purse, and stepped out, adjusting her shades slightly as she made her way inside. The place was lively but not overwhelming. Soft chatter filled the air, the clink of glasses and silverware blending into the background. She approached the host stand, offering a small smile.

“Hello.”

“Hi,” the hostess greeted warmly. “Do you have a reservation?”

“Yes. I believe it's under Danielle Brooks?”

The hostess nodded immediately, grabbing a menu. “Right this way.”

Wunmi followed her through the restaurant, weaving past tables and people until they reached the patio doors. Danielle sat at one of the tables, sunglasses perched on the top of her face, her posture relaxed as she scrolled through her phone. She looked up just in time, her expression breaking into a wide smile as she stood up.

“Wunmi!”

They closed the distance quickly, wrapping each other in a warm hug.

“Hey,” Wunmi laughed softly against her shoulder.

“Hey, stranger,” Danielle teased, squeezing her a little tighter before pulling back to look at her.

They both took a second, really taking each other in.

“It’s been too long,” Danielle said.

“It has,” Wunmi agreed.

Danielle shook her head, smiling. “You look good.”

“So do you,” Wunmi replied easily.

They both laughed, that easy, familiar energy settling right back into place like no time had passed at all.

“Come on,” Danielle said, gesturing toward the table as they sat back down.

Wunmi slid into her seat, setting her purse down beside her, her shades still on as she leaned back slightly.

Their server approached not too long after they sat down, a polite smile on her face as she glanced between them.

“Hi, ladies. Can I start you off with something to drink?”

Danielle didn’t even look at the menu.

“Yeah, I’ll do a margarita,” she said easily, handing it back.

The server nodded, then turned to Wunmi.

“And for you?”

Wunmi glanced down briefly, then back up. “I’ll have a French 75.”

“Perfect. I’ll be right back with those.”

They both murmured a quick thank you before the server stepped away. The second she was out of earshot, Danielle leaned forward slightly, elbows resting on the table.

“Okay, now talk to me. What's been going on with you?,” she said, eyes narrowing playfully.

Wunmi smiled, shaking her head a little as she settled back in her chair.

“Just work and life like always,” she said.

Danielle hummed like she halfway believed her, her gaze drifting casually as she listened. Her eyes dropped right to Wunmi’s hands that were resting on the table.

Wunmi didn’t even realize what Danielle was looking at until she felt her reach across the table.

Danielle grabbed her hand, lifting it, her face twisting in confusion.

“Wait, where's your ring?”

Wunmi’s stomach dropped. She let out a slow sigh, her shoulders sinking just a little.

“I lost it.”

Danielle’s head snapped up.

“Already?!” she gasped.

Wunmi let out another breath, this one heavier, her lips pressing together as she looked down at their hands.

“I’ve been looking for it for days, and I don't know where it is,” she admitted, sounding almost hurt.

“Oh, baby…” she murmured, still holding her hand.

“I turned my whole house upside down to look for it. I don't understand how I lost it…” she trailed off.

Danielle squeezed her hand gently.

“What did Michael say?”

Wunmi let out a small, humorless huff.

“He told me to calm down and we'd find it,” she said. “Or he’d just get me another one if we couldn’t.”

Danielle’s brows lifted slightly. “And you didn’t like that.”

“No,” Wunmi said immediately, shaking her head. “I don’t want another one.”

Danielle nodded slowly, understanding settling in her expression.

“Mm, I get it,” she said gently. “I lost mine before.”

Wunmi blinked, looking up at her.

“You did?”

“Mhm,” Danielle nodded. “Thought I was about to pass out when I realized it too. Tore my whole house up just like you.”

Wunmi let out a small breath, something easing in her chest just a little. “Did you find it?”

Danielle smiled. “I did. It was in the most random place too. You're gonna find it, so don't stress yourself out too much.”

Right then, their server returned with their drinks, carefully placing them down in front of them.

“Margarita for you, and a French 75 for you ,” she said, setting Wunmi’s glass down gently. “Are you ladies ready to order?”

Danielle picked up her drink, taking a quick sip before nodding.

“Yes please."

They both grabbed their menus again, scanning over them briefly as they placed their orders. Danielle confidently went first, while Wunmi took a second longer. The server nodded, jotting everything down. Once she walked away again, Danielle leaned back in her chair, lifting her glass slightly.

They clinked their glasses together and fell right back into conversation. They talked about everything. From work to people to random stories. Danielle filled her in on things she had missed, little industry gossip here and there that made Wunmi laugh and shake her head. Wunmi shared her own updates of things she hadn’t realized she needed to talk about until she was saying them out loud.

Time moved quickly and they hardly even noticed. Their food came and went, plates slowly clearing as they kept talking.

Danielle tilted her head slightly, a knowing look on her face.

“So,” she started, dragging the word out just a little. “How’s wedding planning going?”

Wunmi let out a soft laugh immediately, shaking her head as she set her fork down.

"It’s…a lot.”

“I know it is,” Danielle grinned.

“It’s not even the planning itself, it's the timing,” Wunmi continued.

She reached for her glass, taking a small sip before continuing.

“Michael’s been filming, so everything has to work around his schedule. And when he does have time, it’s like we have to squeeze in ten different things at once. It’s just a lot of back and forth. All of the calls and meetings. where we have to make decisions so quick because we don't know when the next free window is,” Wunmi said.

“So do y’all have a date yet?”

Wunmi picked up her glass and took a small sip.

“Not officially, but we've been looking at spring time or maybe early summer,” she said. “But we’ve been looking at spring. Maybe early summer. I really want May, but that's only if everything lines up properly.”

Danielle raised a brow. “Oh, that's soon soon.”

Wunmi gave a small nod, setting her glass back down. her fingers brushed along the stem of her glass. All of it felt too real.

Wunmi smiled faintly, her fingers brushing along the stem of her glass. The idea of it felt real when she said it out loud like that.

Danielle studied her for a second, then asked, “Are y’all planning to go public before then?”

Wunmi shrugged, her expression easy.

“I don’t really care about that right now. It's not at the top of my list,” she said. “Michael said he’d rather wait until after we get married.”

Danielle hummed, like she was considering that, then a small smirk crept onto her face.

“Mm. Maybe he’s just trying to get his last little bit of fun in ebfore everybody really backs off,” she said casually.

Wunmi didn’t even hesitate to say, “I’m not worried about that.”

“Not even a little bit?”

Wunmi shook her head, leaning back into her seat.

“He's already learned his lesson,” she said simply.

That made Danielle laugh.

“Okay, I hear you,” she said, holding her hands up.

Wunmi just gave a small unbothered smile.

They stayed for a little longer just talking. Eventually their plates were cleared and their dreams were long finisehed.

Danielle glanced around, then back at Wunmi.

“You ready?”

Wunmi nodded. “Yeah.”

Danielle lifted her hand slightly, catching their server’s attention as she passed by.

“Whenever you get a chance, can we get the check?”

The server nodded with a polite smile.

“Of course.”

She disappeared for a moment, and Wunmi reached for her purse. It didn't take long for the server to come back. She didn't set anything on the table. Instead she gave the two women a careful look.

“Actually, your check has already been taken care of,” she said.

Wunmi frowned slightly. “By who?”

The server gave a small, knowing smile, then subtly angled her head toward the inside of the restaurant.

“The gentleman over there.”

Both Wunmi and Danielle turned, their gazes following the direction she’d indicated.

Inside, a small group of men sat at a table not too far from the patio doors. It took a second to even figure out which one she meant until they watched as one of the men leaned back slightly, his attention already on them.

His face wasn’t fully clear from where they were. The lighting inside hit at an angle, shadowing part of it, and he had on a hat that didn’t help. Wunmi narrowed her eyes just a little, trying to place him.

They both turned back toward the server.

“Well…tell him thank you,” Danielle said, still sounding unsure.

“Of course,” the server replied before she walked away.

Wunmi and Danielle exchanged a look. Then they both glanced back toward the table, but the moment had already shifted. The man wasn’t as clearly visible anymore, someone else moving in front of him briefly, the angle changing just enough to make it harder to get a good look.

Danielle leaned closer.

“Do you know him?”

“I don’t—” Wunmi started, then stopped, her eyes narrowing again slightly. “I mean, I can’t see him properly.”

They sat there for another moment, trying to piece it together, but neither of them could land on anything. And then the patio door opened. The man from inside stepped out into the sunlight, moving with an easy confidence. As he got closer, the shadows fell away from his face and Wunmi's breath caught.

Her eyes widened almost immediately in recognition. She quickly turned her head toward Danielle, surprise flickering across her face.

“What? Who is that?” Danielle asked under her breath.

Wunmi didn’t answer. She just looked back at the man as he closed the distance to their table.

“Ladies,” he greeted smoothly as he reached the table.

Danielle straightened slightly, already smiling out of politeness.

“Hi,” she said. “Thank you for paying for us. You didn’t have to do that.”

He waved it off with a small shrug.

“It’s nothing. I figured I'd use it as an excuse to come say hello. Hope you don't mind,” he said.

Danielle glanced at Wunmi briefly before looking back at him.

“No, not at all. That was relaly nice of you,” she said.

Wunmi hadn’t said a word. She kept her posture composed, but her gaze had shifted off to the side for a moment, like she needed a second to collect herself before fully engaging. Because standing in front of her was someone she hadn't seen in literal years. And wasn't expecting to see again.

Tyree Lawson had been someone she had been seeing before Michael even came into the picture. They hadn’t ended badly. They just ended. The distance, timing, and their careers pulled them in opposite directions. He got traded, she picked up a new acting job, and their lives moved on.

But she remembered him. And judging by the way he was looking at her now, he remembered her just as well.

His attention shifted fully to her, a slow smile pulling at his mouth.

“Hi.”

Wunmi cleared her throat softly, finally looking at him.

“Hello.”

The formality of it made his brows lift immediately. A small, amused crease formed between them as he tilted his head.

“Why you acting like you don’t know me?”

Danielle’s eyes flicked between them instantly.

Wunmi exhaled quietly, then extended her hand out.

“Hi,” she said a little less stiff.

He reached out and took it, his grip warm. His thumb brushed lightly across the back of her hand.

“How you been?” he asked.

Wunmi gave him a sharp look and he caught the meaning of it immediately. He smirked.

“I’ve been fine,” she said while pulling her hand back. “Very busy, but fine.”

“I see that. You been everywhere lately,” he nodded, leaning back slightly so he could take her in properly. “I didn’t get to tell you before, but I saw Sinners.”

Wunmi’s expression shifted just a little.

“And?” she asked.

“I liked it a lot. You did your thing in that,” he said. "I'm proud of you."

“Thank you,” she said softly. “I appreciate that.”

There was a brief pause before she shifted the focus.

“What are you doing out here? Didn't the season start?” she asked.

He nodded once. “Yeah, it did. I’ve just got some business to handle out here before I head back.”

Wunmi’s brows lifted slightly. “What business?”

“I started a winery.” A small smile tugged at his mouth.

“Congratulations. That's big,” her tone was more warm and animated now.

“Thank you. The grand opening's coming up soon,” he paused. "You should come."

Wunmi looked at him, and for a split second she let whatever was in the air sink into her. She became a little too soft and a little too open.

“I would have to see, but I think it should be fine,” she said.

Danielle sat back in her chair, watching the exchange unfold with quiet interest. Her gaze moved between them. It wasn’t hard to read the situation. There was clearly history there and it hadn't fully gone away.

He was satisfied with that answer.

“I’ll send you the details.”

“Okay,” Wunmi said.

There was another small pause before he glanced between them, stepping back just slightly.

“I won’t hold you any longer,” he added. “Just wanted to say hello.”

Wunmi nodded, pushing her chair back as she stood.

“Yeah, of course.”

She stepped around the table, closing the small distance between them. And they hugged.

This time their contact wasn't awkward. In fact it was easy and familiar. His arms wrapped around her firmly, pulling her in. They slid a little lower than they probably should have.

Wunmi inhaled softly at the contact, her body reacting before her mind could catch up. He’d always been built strong and solid. Her hands rested against him briefly, her fingers pressing lightly against his back. She let out a quiet hum without meaning to.

He dipped his head slightly, pressing a quick kiss to her cheek before pulling back, his hands lingering at her waist for just a second longer.

“Good seeing you,” he murmured.

“You too,” she replied.

He gave Danielle a quick nod before turning and heading back inside.

Nobody noticed the the camera lens across the street taking pictures of them.

Wunmi sat back down, adjusting her bag at her side, and Danielle was staring at her hard. Wunmi didn’t meet her eyes right away. She just reached for her shades instead and slid them back up.

“What?” she casually asked.

Danielle leaned back, crossing her arms loosely.

“You might not be worried about Michael with other women, but he should probably be a little worried about you,” she said pointedly.

Wunmi let out a quiet hum, not denying it, but not feeding into it either. She grabbed her purse, standing up.

“You ready?” she asked simply.

Danielle stared at her for a second longer, then shook her head with a small laugh as she stood too.

“Yeah, I'm ready,” she said.

A few days had passed, and the ring still hadn’t turned up.

Wunmi had stopped tearing her house apart, but the absence hadn’t gotten any easier. If anything, it got worse. Every time she reached for things or rested her hand on her lap she was reminded of it not being there.

She was leisurely stretched out across her couch when Michael called, one leg tucked under her, and her sketchbook open beside her with loose pages scattered around it.

“Hey,” she answered, tucking the phone between her ear and shoulder as she absentmindedly flipped through one of the pages.

“Hey baby,” Michael’s voice came through low and tired. “You find it yet?”

She let out a small sigh. “…No.”

There was a brief pause on his end.

“It's fine.”

Wunmi frowned slightly, her fingers coming up to rub over her bare ring finger.

“It doesn’t feel fine,” she muttered. “My finger feels weird without it.”

That earned a quiet exhale from him, something close to a soft chuckle.

“You'll be okay. It's not permanent,” he said.

She hummed under breath, shifting a little on the couch.

“So how are you feeling about everything?” sheasked while glancing down at her sketchbook.

“About what?” he asked.

“The wedding,” she said.

There was a small pause.

“I’m good,” he answered. “Why? You not?”

“I am,” she said quickly. “It's just that there’s a lot to keep up with.”

Her hand moved across the page, tracing over one of the rough designs she’d started.

“And don’t forget we have that meeting next week with the planner coming up,” she added.

“Yeah, I remember,” he said.

She sat up a bit to reach for a pencil.

“I’ve been trying to get a head start on my dress too,” she continued. “I started sketching some ideas, but I don't know how I feel about any of them.”

On the other end, Michael was half-listening when his phone buzzed. He pulled it away from his ear just enough to glance down at the notification to see that it was a text from his publicist.

How do you want to handle this?

A twitter link followed.

His brows pulled together as he tapped it. The page loaded and his eyes instantly went to the caption.

Academy nominee Wunmi Mosaku and Dallas Cowboys defensive lineman Tyree Lawson seen pretty close at lunch.

Michael blinked once. Then he looked down at the photos. There were multiple pictures of Wunmi and Tyree hugging. His arms wrapped low around her waist and his cheek pressed against hers. There was even a picture where his lips were pressed against her cheek.

Michael was utterly confused and tense all at once.

“Aye, what is this?”

His voice cut her off mid-sentence.

“What are you talking about?”

Instead of answering, he sent the link to her. And at the exact same time, her phone buzzed against her ear. She pulled it away to see that it was a text from her own publicist.

We need to get in front of this.

Her stomach dropped. And as soon as the tweet loaded she felt her whole breath evaporate.

“Oh my God.”

Her eyes widened as she scrolled through the photos, her chest tightening.

On the other end, Michael said nothing he just waited. His silence made her pulse stutter.

“Okay, wait. When I went out with Danielle the other day someone paid for our meal. It was him,” she said quickly. "Then he came over to our table."

“Y’all look pretty close.”

The way he said it was too controlled.

Wunmi exhaled, already feeling that dangerous shift in him.

“Do you remember the guy I told you about that came before you?” she asked.

There was a beat. Then Michael hummed.

She swallowed. “That’s him.”

He remembered the conversation and the way she described how serious it could've been and how much she liked him before things fell apart. And now he was looking at pictures of that same man with his hands on her like that.

“So then what,” Michael said slowly.

Wunmi shifted on the couch, her fingers tightening slightly around her phone.

“It wasn’t like that, baby,” she said. “He just paid for our food and came to say hi. That’s it.”

Michael let out a quiet breath through his nose.

“That don’t look like just saying hi.”

Wunmi frowned, her chest tightening.

“I didn’t know what to do. It caught me off guard,” she said.

He shook his head, even though she couldn’t see it.

“You didn’t know what to do?” he echoed.

She heard the edge in his voice.

“I mean—no,” she said, her tone softening. “I wasn’t expecting to see him. And he just came up—”

“And you hugging him like that?” Michael cut in.

Her lips parted, then pressed together again.

“He did all of that,” she said, quieter now.

“That don’t change what it look like.”

Wunmi exhaled, her shoulders sinking slightly.

“It wasn’t anything. You're making it more than it was,” she insisted.

Michael didn’t respond right away because then he realized something that made this all that much worse.

“And you ain’t have your ring on. Did you at least tell him you were engaged?”

Wunmi froze. She didn't answer right away which made Michael grunt in frustration.

"Oluwunmi…"

“…No,” she admitted softly. Her voice had dropped to a whisper.

Michael let out another low, frustrated grunt, dragging a hand down his face.

“Aight,” he said. "It's cool."

Wunmi sat up straight.

“It’s not—Michael, listen—”

“I said it’s cool,” he repeated.

But it didn’t sound like it was at all.

“I’ll see you later.”

Her brows pulled together immediately. And she went to ask him what he meant by that, but the line had already gone dead. She pulled the phone away from her ear, staring at the screen for a second, confusion settling in just as fast as the panic. He wasn’t supposed to be back for another two days. So really what did he mean?

The rest of the day blurred together.

Her phone stayed in her hand. If she wasn’t on a call, she was answering a text. If she wasn’t answering a text, she was reading something she wished she hadn’t.

Her publicist called her once. Then again. Then a third time, looping her into another call but this time with Michael’s publicist.

Wunmi pressed her lips together, pacing slowly through her living room as she listened, her free hand resting against her forehead.

“It wasn’t like that,” she said for what felt like the tenth time. “He came up to us and I didn’t even know he was there until—”

“We understand that, but perception matters far more than intent right now,” her publicist cut in gently.

Wunmi closed her eyes as she took that statement in because of course it did.

They talked through options of what to do. If she wanted to make a statement and the timing of it, or if she would want to stay silent. By the time that call ended, her head was pounding. And of course, it didn’t stop there.

Danielle called her as well.

“Girl, are you okay?” she asked immediately.

“I’m fine,” Wunmi said, even though she wasn’t.

Danielle sighed. “I didn’t even notice anybody out there taking pictures like that.”

“Me either,” Wunmi muttered, dropping down onto her couch again.

“You talked to Michael?”

“I did and let's just say it didn't go too well. He hung up on me.”

“Okay, well, that's not ideal,” she said slowly.

Wunmi huffed a small, humorless breath. “No, it’s not.”

After that the calls just kept coming. From close friends to family. And they were all asking questions that she didn't really feel like answering. The only person who hadn't was Michael. And not for lack of trying on her part either.

Every time she tried to call him, it went unanswered. Every text was stuck on delivered. She even checked his location at one point, but it was off.

When evening came, her energy was completely drained.

She sat curled up on her couch, her phone resting in her lap as she stared at the screen. The tweet was still circulating, but with more comments and opinions. More people were inserting themselves into something they didn’t understand.

Her thumb hovered over Michael’s name for the fiftieth time that day. She still had nothing from him. Her chest tightened, and she swallowed hard, blinking a few times as that familiar pressure started building behind her eyes. All of this was getting to her.

She slowly moved through her nighttime routine. The house fell still the moment she turned the lights off ready to curl up and hide from the world.

She grabbed her phone one last time, glancing at it, and still nothing. Wunmi let out a quiet breath and set it down on the table. She had started to head to her bedroom when there was a knock on her door.

It was far too late for anyone to just be showing up. So she stood still for second to listen. But then another louder and more insistent knock came.

Her heart picked up slightly as she walked toward the door with cautious steps.

“Who is it?” she called out.

No verbal answer, only another knock.

She hesitated for half a second before unlocking the door and pulling it open. And her breath caught when she saw Michael standing there with a hood pulled over his head and hands tucked into his pockets.

“Michael—” she gasped in relief. “Baby, I am so—”

“Come on,” he cut in firmly. He left no room for disagreeament.

When she didn't move, Michael stared at her harder.

“Let's go,” he repeated, stepping slightly to the side and holding the door open wider.

Her breath hitched. It was something about the look in her eye that made her really not want to argue with him. She simply turned and went to grab her phone and purse off of the table. She walked past him, his presence heavy as she went by.

He stepped out right after her, pulling the door shut and locking it without a word. Wunmi looked back slightly to watch him. He slipped by her to lead the way.

Once he got to the car, Michael pulled the passenger door open for her to get into. She climbed in with her heart beating faster than normal. The door shut and a second later, he was in the driver’s seat, starting the engine.

The silence inside the car was thick during the drive.

Wunmi glanced at him. His hands were tight on the wheel and eyes forward. She opened her mouth then closed it. Whatever she was about to say didn’t feel like it would go right, so she stayed quiet.

The drive only lasted about fifteen minutes, but it felt much longer.

As soon as they pulled into his driveway, he was out of the car almost immediately, coming around to her side and opening her door before she could even reach for it.

She stepped out, watching him carefully. He led the way inside, unlocking the front door and holding it open for her. She stepped into the house, instantly being met with a comfortable familiarity. He closed the door behind them, locking it again before moving past her.

“Where were you when you took it off?” he asked roughly.

Wunmi blinked, trying to keep up.

“I was washing my hair, but that was back at my—”

She could hardly answer before he turned and headed straight for the stairs. Wunmi followed quickly behind him.

“Michael—” She called for him as they swiftly moved up the stairs.

She knew she hadn’t taken her ring off here, so she didn’t argue. At this point, she didn’t have the energy to push back on anything. Not after the day she’d had. So she just followed him into the bathroom and watched him as he immediately got to work.

He moved around the space like a man on a mission, opening drawers, shifting bottles, checking along the edges of the counter and behind things that hadn’t been touched in days. His movements were completely focused yet annoyed.

Wunmi stood in the doorway for a second before stepping in, her arms folding loosely over her chest as she watched him.

“Michael…” she started softly.

He didn’t even look at her. Instead, he crouched down instead, checking along the base of the cabinets, his fingers running along the small spaces.

Wunmi swallowed. Then slowly, she moved further in, kneeling down on the opposite side, her movements much more hesitant. She checked places she knew didn’t make sense. Behind containers and inside small trays and corners that didn’t hold anything. She wasn’t really expecting to find it, but she helped anyway.

The only sounds in the room were the soft shifting of items and Michael’s quiet, frustrated exhales every few minutes. He was getting irritated and she could not only hear it but see it as well. His shoulders were tight and his jaw flexed every time he searched and came up empty-handed.

Enough time passed for the silence between them to stretch and fill the room.

Michael was crouched low near the side of the counter, his fingers reaching into a narrow gap between the cabinet and the wall. His face was scrunched together when he pulled his hand back. And there it was in his fingers. The ring.

Wunmi let out a relieved exhale, “Oh thank God.”

Michael stood up, holding it between his fingers as he wiped it off against the side of his shirt, inspecting it briefly. Then he looked at her.

“Come here.” His voice was steady.

Wunmi carefully pushed herself up and walked over to him. He held his hand out. She reached for it, her fingers slipping into his automatically. He lifted the ring slightly between them, his gaze flicking from it to her.

“You better not lose it again.”

Wunmi’s lips parted slightly, and she nodded, her voice soft, “I won’t.”

He slid it back onto her finger, the cool metal settling into place.

Wunmi exhaled shakily, her shoulders dropping just a little as she looked down at it. Relief flooded her instantly.

Michael’s expression softened as he took her hand again, bringing it up and pressing a kiss to it. Then he stepped closer and wrapped his arm around her waist, pulling her into him. He pushed his lips onto hers and she melted into the kiss almost immediately. Her hands came up to rest agaisnt his chest before sliding up around his neck.

The tension from earlier simmered.

She pulled back just a little, her forehead brushing against his as she looked at him.

“I’m sorry for not really telling you,” she said softly.

“It’s alright. I get it,” he said after a second. “I guess this is my payback.”

Wunmi frowned faintly.

“Payback? For what?”

He looked at her, something protective settling back into his expression.

“I don’t like nobody thinking they can come up and be that comfortable with you,” he said. “Especially not somebody you had something with.”

Her breath caught slightly.

“I didn’t—”

“I know. But I'm saying,” he said firmly. "I'm protective over what's mine."

His hand pressed lightly against her waist.

“And I don’t want you going out without your ring so we don't have this problem again,” he added.

Wunmi nodded slowly, her fingers tightening slightly against him.

“Okay.”

He leaned in again, kissing her slower this time.

Her arms wrapped around him fully now, holding him close as she lifted her hand slightly behind his head. The ring caught the light. She smiled softly against his lips.

“I really did miss it,” she murmured.

Michael let out a quiet breath against her skin, his lips trailing from her jaw down to her neck, pressing a few soft kisses there.

Her eyes fluttered closed, her grip tightening just a little. After a moment, she pulled back slightly, catching her breath.

“What are you doing back already? I thought you weren't coming back for two more days,” she asked.

Michael looked at her for a second, then shrugged lightly.

“I had to come handle my business.”

Wunmi bit her lip, her gaze dropping for a second.

“I really am sorry, Michael,” she said again.

He shook his head, stepping back just enough to look at her fully.

“It’s fine,” he said. “I’m tired.”

He moved past her, already pulling his hoodie off as he headed toward the bedroom.

Wunmi followed, watching him as he stripped down to his boxers.

They both slipped into bed without much more conversation. Wunmi settled in beside him, her hand resting against his chest, her thumb brushing lightly over the ring.

December 2026

Michael had finally wrapped filming for Miami Vice, which meant he was home more, but somehow, that hadn’t made life any less hectic. Now they had wedding stress and awards and press season.

Wunmi had already picked up several nominations. Her name was floating in conversations again. All of the hype was starting to stack on top of everything else.

The wedding planning had been intense. They officially had their date, the venue was picked, and invitations had been sent. That should've made things easier, but it didn't.

Now it was all about the details. They still had to lock a lot of things in while coordinating their schedules around two careers that clearly weren't slowing down. It was a lot.

And Michael had been on her more than usual. He was always touching her or near her. Especially after the whole Tyree thing. Even though they had moved past it, something about it had stuck with him.

They were on the couch with the TV playing something neither of them was fully paying attention to.

Wunmi sat sideways, her legs draped across Michael’s lap and her back resting against the arm of the couch. Her phone was in her hand, thumbs moving as she typed.

Michael’s hand rested on her calf, absentmindedly sliding down to her ankle before coming back up again. His other hand lifted her foot slightly, thumb pressing into the arch, working it gently.

Wunmi exhaled softly at the pressure, not even looking up from her phone.

“Mm,” she hummed.

Michael glanced at her.

“Who you texting?”

“I'm just updating the bridesmaids,” she said while typing.

“About what?”

“The dates that we agreed on for our trips. And the fittings."

Michael shook his head slightly, a quiet breath leaving him.

“This is still so crazy to me,” he muttered.

Wunmi glanced at him briefly, a small smile pulling at her lips.

“What is?”

“The fact that we're getting married.”

“I’m excited,” Wunmi's smile softened.

Michael smiled back at her, then went back to rubbing her foot.

She returned her attention to her phone. And just then a new text came in from an unknown number. Her brows pulled together in confusion as she opened it.

The first message was a picture of an invitation. Then there was a text right under it.

Can’t wait to see you.

Wunmi was utterly confused, until she scrolled up slightly, looked at the number again, then back at the image. That was when it all clicked.

“Oh.”

Michael’s hand paused slightly against her foot.

“What?”

Wunmi’s lips pressed together as she read it again.

“I just got an invitation,” she said.

“To what?”

She hesitated for a second.

“Tyree’s winery opening.”

Michael’s hand stilled completely.

“No.”

It was an immediate rejection that took Wunmi aback.

“You didn’t even let me explain.”

“Didn't have to,” he said as he leaned back against the couch.

Wunmi let out a small breath, sitting up a little.

“He just sent it to me and I don't even have his number,” she added.

“I don’t care. You're not going,” Michael said. His hand dropped from her foot, resting on her leg instead, his fingers tapping once against her skin.

Wunmi frowned, “Baby—”

“You're not going,” he repeated.

She shifted, pulling one of her legs in so she could turn toward him more.

“But I kind of want to go.”

Michael’s eyes snapped to her. “Why?”

Wunmi blinked at his tone, then exhaled.

“I don’t know,” she admitted. “It just doesn't feel like a big deal. It's a grand opening, so we'll be in public. And it's not like I'm sneaking off somewhere with him.”

Michael stared at her completely unmoved.

“That’s not the point, baby.”

"Then what is the point?" Wunmi tilted her head slightly.

“I don’t trust him.”

Wunmi’s brows lifted slightly.

“It sounds like you don’t trust me?”

“That's not what I said. I trust you,” he said immediately.

“Then—”

“I don’t trust him,” he repeated, slower this time. “And I don’t like the idea of you going somewhere he invited you to like that.”

Wunmi sighed softly, her shoulders dropping a little.

“It’s not like I have feelings for him. Whatever was there is gone,” she said.

Michael’s gaze stayed on her.

“That doesn’t mean it’s gone for him. Especially after how them pictures looked. Now he's inviting you out. I don't like that,” he said.

“I’d be wearing my ring,” she said quietly.

Michael let out a short breath, shaking his head, “That don’t stop nothing if somebody don’t care.”

Wunmi studied him for a second.

“So what? I just don't go?” she asked softly.

“Not unless I’m there,” he said.

Wunmi leaned back against the couch again, thinking.

“I don’t even know if you can go. You might have press,” she said.

“Then you not going,” he replied without hesitation.

She let out a quiet huff, somewhere between frustration and understanding.

“Michael…”

He reached for her leg again, pulling it back across his lap, his hand sliding up her thigh before settling there.

“I’m serious. I'm not about to have a repeat of that,” he said.

Wunmi looked at him, really looked at him this time, and she saw the tension still in his body. So she decided to concede.

“Okay,” she said after a second.

Michael’s shoulders relaxed a bit, his thumb moving against her leg.

The following weekend came quicker than Wunmi was honestly ready for. Between wedding meetings, awards conversations, and Michael attached to her to her body every second, the days just blurred together. Yet she still found time to get ready for unplanned events.

Music was playing lowly from downstairs while Michael moved around the room getting dressed.

Wunmi sat at her vanity in their bedroom, one leg crossed over the other as she leaned closer to the mirror. She had gotten her hair done a few days ago. It was in soft, full curls that fell around her shoulders. Her makeup was simple, especially since she didn't feel like going through her glam team.

She dabbed lightly beneath one eye when she heard Michael’s footsteps getting closer. A second later, he appeared in the mirror behind her with a hoodie on and cologne loud. He glanced at her reflection immediately.

“I’m about to head out,” he said.

Wunmi hummed softly. “Okay.”

But then his eyes narrowed, because she was clearly getting ready too.

“Where you going?”

Wunmi kept her expression neutral as she reached for her gloss.

“Out.”

Michael leaned one shoulder against the doorway, "Out where?"

"Just out," she shrugged.

His eyes stayed on her through the mirror for another second longer than necessary. He was clearly suspicious and she could feel it. But after a moment, he pushed off the doorway and walked over behind her instead. His hands settled warmly onto her shoulders, thumbs pressing lightly into the muscles there.

Wunmi relaxed under the touch.

“You look pretty,” he murmured.

A small smile pulled at her lips, “Thank you.”

His hands slid down slowly before he leaned down toward her face.

“Wait—” she laughed softly, turning her head slightly. “You’re gonna mess up my lip gloss.”

“I don’t care.”

Before she could protest again, his hand tilted her chin toward him and he kissed her anyway. It was only a soft quick one, but it was annoyingly affectionate.

When they pulled apart, Michael looked entirely too satisfied with himself. His hands lingered on her shoulders a second longer before he straightened back up.

“You got my card?”

“Why would I need your card?”

“Just in case.”

“I’m not going to need it.”

Michael reached over and picked up her purse from the vanity chair anyway, unzipping it and slipping the black card inside.

Wunmi rolled her eyes softly but didn’t argue.

He leaned down one more time, brushing his lips briefly against the top of her head this time.

“Text me when you get where you going.”

“Okay.”

He squeezed her shoulder once before finally heading out of the room.

Wunmi waited until she heard the front door downstairs close, then she exhaled. She walked over to her closet to get her dress for the evening. The dress was all-black, but it hugged her body absolutely perfectly.

She stepped into it carefully, pulling it up slowly, and adjusting it into place. Then she turned toward the mirror to look at herself. And honestly she looked a little too good.

She knew that Michael would hate to see her looking this good and going there. Which was exactly why she hadn't told him where she was going. She knew how her man would react, but she also knew that if she didn't go Tyree would only push harder. He was the kind of man that liked the chase. He only got more interested when someone pulled away.

Wunmi slipped on her heels, then sprayed perfume lightly along her neck and wrists. She grabbed her purse and headed downstairs.

When she made it outside the air was cooler than it had been earlier in the week. Her heels clicked softly against the driveway as she walked toward her car. Once inside, she checked herself quickly in the mirror, then started the engine.

The drive was long enough to give her time to think. Streetlights blurred past as her fingers tapped lightly against the steering wheel.

Her thoughts swirled with a mix of Michael and Tyree. All she could really think about is if they got caught again just like how they got caught at the restaraunt. Her hand tightened on the wheel and her ring caught the passing lights immediately. She was just glad that she had it on this time.

The venue was on the other side of town, so she ran into some thick traffic. By the time she finally pulled up it was packed. A line of cars stretched down the block. Dozens of blacked-out vehicles rolled forward one after another as valet attendants moved quickly to get them in and out.

Wunmi slowed as she pulled up, immediately spotting the entrance ahead glowing warm against the night. The building itself was gorgeous with modern architecture, dark wood accents, and huge windows revealing pieces of the event happening inside.

Before she could even fully put the car in park, a valet attendant was already stepping forward and opening her door.

“Good evening, ma’am.”

Wunmi gave him a polite smile as she grabbed her purse and phone.

“Thank you.”

The cool evening air brushing against her skin as she stepped out carefully in her heels. A few heads turned as she straightened up fully, smoothing a hand lightly over her dress before handing over her keys.

“Enjoy your evening,” the valet said.

Wunmi nodded softly before making her way toward the entrance.

As soon as she entered into the venue, the more impressed she became because it was beautiful. The lighting was dim with warm gold tones bouncing off dark interiors and polished surfaces. Music floated through the air low enough for conversation, and the entire place smelled faintly of wood and wine.

Before she could get too lost in the beauty of her surroundings, she remembered something important that she was supposed to do. Wunmi reached into her purse and pulled her phone out knowing she needed to say something before he found out another way.

Her fingers moved quickly over the screen.

I know you’re going to be mad but I’m at Tyree’s event. I’m going to let him know that I’m engaged.

She stared at the message for a quick second, then turned her phone completely off. Beccause she knew the second that he saw it, he was going to call her and she honestly didn't feel like dealing with that right now.

She slipped the phone back into her purse and exhaled slowly, squaring her shoulders before continuing further inside.

A server approached her with a tray of wine glasses.

“Would you like one?”

Wunmi glanced down briefly before taking one carefully by the stem.

“Thank you.”

She took a small sip, eyes moving around the room. A few familiar faces caught her attention here and there. Some even greeted her once they noticed her.

She smiled politely through all of the exchanges, stopping for quick conversations here and there and accepting compliments. She was also being very aware of her surroundings, because if she wasn't things could very well become a problem.

She lifted the wine glass to her lips again, taking another small sip as she continued walking through the venue. She took her time moving through the different rooms.

Every section flowed into the next seamlessly. There were private tasting areas, lounge spaces, and long wooden tables filled with bottles and small plates. The lighting stayed dim and warm throughout the entire building, giving everything this intimate feel.

She found herself near one of the display areas where rows of massive wine barrels lined the wall with engraved plaques beneath them. Wunmi lifted her glass for another sip, leaning slightly to read one of the plaques when a hand slid around her waist. Her body instantly tensed up.

She turned quickly, only to come face to face with Tyree. And he was smiling down at her.

“I’m glad you made it,” he said.

His voice was smooth and easy over the music.

Wunmi recovered quickly, giving him a small smile back.

“This place is gorgeous,” she admitted honestly, glancing around again briefly. “Like really gorgeous.”

Tyree chuckled softly, “Appreciate it.”

She lifted her glass slightly, “And the wine’s good too.”

That made him grin wider.

“Alright now, don’t gas me too much.”

Wunmi laughed softly. But then she remembered his hand that was still resting against her waist. Her eyes flicked downward briefly before she subtly stepped sideways out of his hold. The movement was smooth enough not to make a scene, but still he noticed.

Tyree’s brows pulled together as his eyes moved over her slowly.

“You look real good tonight,” he said.

“Thank you.”

He stepped toward her even more. He lifted his arm like he was about to settle it around her waist once more, but Wunmi moved before he could.

“Watch yourself,” she said lightly.

Tyree paused. Confused amusement spread across his face.

“What? Why you acting like this?” he laughed.

Wunmi didn’t verbally answer. Instead, she lifted her left hand up between them. The ring caught the warm lighting, sparkling beautifully against her skin.

Tyree’s eyes dropped to it and he looked genuinely surprised. But his expression smoothed back over.

“When that happen?” he asked.

Wunmi took another sip of her wine before answering casually, “He proposed in August.”

His brows shot up again.

“August, huh?”

She nodded.

“You ain’t have that on at lunch.”

“I lost it and got in so much trouble because of what happened,” she admitted and pointed lightly at him with her glass. “I should’ve told you then that I was happily engaged. Maybe pictures of us wouldn't have ended up all over the internet,” she said.

He briefly glanced away like he was thinking. Then he looked back at her with a dangerously confident smirk on his face.

“I guess I gotta try harder to get you to come over to the best side," he said.

Irritation immediately flashed across Wunmi's face. It was so fast Tyree almost missed it.

“I’m already on the best side,” she said plainly. “And it can’t get any better than my man.”

Tyree sucked his teeth, unconvinced.

“Yeah okay,” he muttered.

Wunmi stared at him for another second before taking another sip from her glass.

Tyree looked at her ring one more time before nodding once.

“You enjoy yourself." he said. Then his mouth curved up. “I’ll be talking to you soon.”

Wunmi narrowed her eyes at that, but she didn’t respond. She just nodded once and watched him walk away through the crowd.

The second he disappeared, she exhaled quietly.

“…Jesus Christ.”

Her fingers tightened slightly around the stem of the glass. Now she understood exactly why Michael didn’t want her there. Tyree wasn’t outright disrespectful, but he also clearly wasn’t backing down just because she had a ring on.

After that exchange, she stayed there for about another hour or so. She mingled with people and sampled more wine. But the longer she stayed, the more aware she became of the pit forming in her stomach. Eventually she had to go home where she knew Michael was waiting for her.

She handed off her empty wine glass and headed toward the exit, she already knew she was in a whole lot of trouble.

After an entire drive of Wunmi's stomach twisting knots, she finally pulled into Michael's garage. When she parked the car she noticed that Michael's car wasn't there. She hadn't seen it out front either. Relief washed over her.

She grabbed her purse and stepped out of the car, her heels echoing softly through the garage before she headed inside.

The house was completely dark. A little too dark.

Wunmi paused just inside the doorway, listening carefully. A small breath escaped her. The tension in her shoulders loosened.

She locked the door behind her and kept the lights off, moving quietly through the house before heading upstairs. The bedroom was dark too. That eased her nerves even more because it meant he hadn't even stepped foot in the home.

She set her purse down carefully and headed toward the closet, ready to get out of the dress and wash the night off her.

The closet light was dim as she slipped her heels off first with a relieved sigh. Then her jewelry. Then her dress. She wrapped her robe tight around her body and tied it securely at the waist. Her hair fell softly around her shoulders as she pushed the closet door back open and stepped into the bedroom. She casually reached toward the wall and flipped the light on.

Her breath stopped.

Michael was sitting in the corner chair near the window. Legs spread, body leaned back, arms resting on the arm of the chair, and face blank. The light caught him good, and he was just watching her.

Wunmi physically jumped, her hand flying to her chest.

“Oh my God,” she gasped. “You scared me.”

Her heart slammed against her ribs as she stared at him.

There had been absolutely no sign he was home. His car wasn't around, he made no sound, there was absolutely nothing.

Michael didn’t answer. He just looked at her, giving her a completely unreadable look. His silence somehow made her even more nervous.

Wunmi swallowed hard, trying to recover.

“Hi,” she said softly, attempting a small smile as she bit lightly at her lip.

Still nothing.

The room suddenly felt very warm, very quiet.

Wunmi shifted her weight under his stare.

Slowly, Michael lifted two fingers and crooked them toward himself. He had no words for her, only the simple gesture.

Wunmi’s breath hitched and her stomach tightened, but she obeyed. Her bare feet slowly moved across the carpet until she stood directly in front of him between his spread legs.

Michael leaned back in the chair, his hands settling on her thighs, fingers gripping the thick flesh through the soft fabric of her robe.

“Anything you wanna say?” he finally asked calmly.

Wunmi swallowed. Her fingers twisted lightly together at her sides.

“I’d be lying if I said I was sorry,” she admitted quietly.

Michael’s face tightened and he gave a stiff nod.

The room stayed silent for another long second.

“Get on the bed.”

Wunmi’s eyes widened and her stomach dropped. She knew exactly what kind of mood he was in. And there had only been maybe three times where she had gotten herself in enough trouble to see this side of him.

Wunmi's pulse blared in her ears as she turned toward the bed. She climbed onto the mattress slowly, knees first, then hands, positioning herself on all fours with her back arched just enough to present herself to him.

Michael rose from the chair without a sound. His footsteps were heavy as he approached the bed. He placed one hand between her shoulder blades and pressed down firmly, forcing her upper body to lay flat against the cool sheets. Her cheek pressed into the fabric, arms stretching out in front of her.

"Stay down," he commanded, voice low.

A soft whimper escaped her lips, her body trembling under the weight of his palm. She was completely at his mercy.

"You're gonna count each one," Michael said, his tone leaving no room for argument. "And I'm not telling you when it stops."

Wunmi braced herself, fingers curling into the sheets, muscles tensing as she waited for the first hit.

He gathered the hem of her robe and pushed it up over her lower back, exposing her completely. His fingers hooked into the thin straps of her panties next, tugging them up hard and wedging the fabric tight between her cheeks like a makeshift thong. The pull made her gasp, the material pinching her skin, leaving her bare and framed for him.

She had no idea what was going to happen. Her nerves were all over the place.

Then it came. A sharp smack landed on her left cheek. The hit stung like fire and jolted her entire body. It caught her so off guard that her mind blanked, and no words came out of her mouth.

Michael grunted disapprovingly. His hands clamped onto both large cheeks, gripping hard enough to make her wince.

"Count."

"One," she whispered shakily.

The next hit came down harder than the first, the force snapping her hips forward an inch across the bed.

"Two," she managed, sucking in a breath.

"Why'd you go when I told you not to?" he demanded, one hand kneading her flesh roughly.

Wunmi drew a shaky breath, her voice soft against the mattress. "I needed to. If I didn't he'd be all over me."

Michael's eyes narrowed as he processed her words. Without warning, he delivered two quick hits— one on each cheek—the slaps echoing through the room.

She whimpered, body jerking with the double sting, heat spreading fast.

"Three...four," she counted while clinging to the sheets.

"You're in so much trouble," Michael growled, his palm hovering for a beat before delivering the fifth smack, firmly across the center of her right cheek. The heat built, layering over the previous stings.

"Five," she counted, hips twitching involuntarily.

"And you're gonna make it up to Daddy," he added, his voice dropping as the sixth hit landed on the left cheek.

Another groan came from her and her thighs pressed together against the growing ache. "Six."

He didn't pause. The seventh hit was quick and the eighth followed just as quickly. Then the ninth and tenth were all rapid-fire, alternating cheeks. Each one made her skin tingle. The sensations twisted into a mix of pain and pleasure that had her toes curling and breath hitching.

She winced with the seventh, whimpered through the eighth, gasped on the ninth, and let out a shaky whine on the tenth. Her entire backside was throbbing and aching, but somehow that made it more intoxicating.

"You had enough?" Michael's hand rested on her warm skin, rubbing slow circles.

Wunmi nodded frantically, her cheek still pressed to the bed, tears at the corners of her eyes from the intensity.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, voice breaking softly.

He hummed a low, skeptical sound rumbling from his chest as he shook his head.

"Nah. I don't think you are yet." His fingers tightened on her hip. "Don't move."

Wunmi stayed where she was with her forehead pressed to the sheets and ass raised high as the door to the closet clicked shut behind him. Her mind raced, trying to figure out what he was grabbing. Her breath came in shallow pants and she squeezed her eyes shut.

Then she heard the low hum starting up from somewhere behind her.

Her eyes flew open and a whimper slipped out, "Michael..."

She felt the cool, buzzing head of the vibrator wand press directly against her clit through the wedged fabric of her panties. Her whole body jumped forward on the bed, a startled yelp escaping her as pleasure shot through her like lightning.

"Hold it," he ordered.

Wunmi reached back with one trembling hand, fingers wrapping around the handle. She held it lightly, the vibrations teased her. Still it was too much.

Without giving her a warning, Michael covered her hand with his and pressed down hard. The wand felt intense against her clit. A deep moan tore from her throat, hips pushed back involuntarily.

His free hand landed a hard smack on her already tender cheeks. He kept going, each sharp spank jiggling her body and mixing with the pleasure of the wand.

She moaned loudly, head dropping to the mattress. She could feel herself dripping wet, slickness coating her inner thighs from earlier and now. The wand hummed against her clit, every pulse matching perfectly with the hits of his palm on her ass.

Wunmi felt herself starting to reach that edge quickly. Her body tensed up, mouth dropping open in a silent gasp. Her free hand clutched the sheets in a death grip while her legs trembled. She clenched and pulsed around nothing.

Michael noticed it right away, his rhythm never faltering.

"You better not come," he warned her.

She shook her head, biting her lip hard to fight it. She knew he wanted her to give him the excuse for more punishment, but holding back felt impossible. The pressure was getting worse with every second.

Her body moved on it's own, and her hand pressed wand harder against her clit.Consistent needy moans fell from her lip as she started to grind against the vibrations. She could feel herself right there, she was so close.

Michale snatched the wand from her grip, the sudden absence making a frustrated sound fall from her lips.

"You don't get to come," he stated flatly, tossing it aside.

Wunmi whimpered as every nerve in her body was screaming for release.

Michael gave her two final smacks to each cheek. Then his palms rubbed slow, drawing a soft sigh from her. Then he grabbed her hips and yanked her back toward him, pulling until her lower body pressed against his.

Wunmi felt his straining through his pants, making her throb even more. She couldn't help but to rub against him in a silent plea to be filled.

"I'm not fucking you tonight," he said firmly as his hand cracked down once more on her ass. He stepped away, leaving her empty and wanting.

Wunmi whimpered, fully collapsing onto the bed. She shifted onto her side.

A while later, Michael slid into bed behind her. He held her close, draping one arm possessively over her waist.

For the next three days, Wunmi was denied orgasm after orgasm by Michael. Every time Tyree called or texted, it put her further into trouble.

The first morning, Michael had her on top of the kitchen counter, vibrator pressed against her clit. She was gasping, thighs shaking, and so close her vision blurred. That was until her phone lit up with a "good morning" text from Tyree. Michael instantly snatched the vibrator away, leaving her desperate whining.

One afternoon, after doing some errands for the wedding, Tyree called her as they were getting intside of the car. She ignored it, but Michael noticed.

He slid his hand between her legs, and pushed his fingers so deep into her. He curled them just right and stroked her so good. She rocked against his palm, moans filling the car as she worked her way up. Then he pulled away. He built her back up, only to deny her again. And again for a third time. Each denial left her more wrrecked than the last.

And after three days of torture, Michael finally decided she'd earned a reward.

They were in bed. Him sat up against the headboard, legs spread wide with kneeling between them. Her lips were wrapped around his thick length as she took him deep down her throat.

Michael groaned as his hand gripped the back of her head, fingers tangled in her hair to guide her further down, hold there, then back up.

She moaned around him, the vibrations pulling more groans from him.

They were so lost in the moment. Her tongue eagerly swirled around him as she sucked him up. And his eyes couldn't move away from the beautiful sight in front of him. That was until her phone broke the moment by ringing so loud on the nightstand.

Almost instinctively, Wunmi tried to lift her head to check, but Michael's grip tightened. He pushed her head firmly back down onto his dick, keeping her mouth full.

He snatched the phone with his free hand, glancing at the screen. Tyree's name flashed across the screen. Instantly, Michael was annoyed. The ringing stopped only to start up again seconds later.

Wunmi took Michael's brief distraction as opportunity, so she slid him out of her mouth with a soft pop and peered at the screen. She was just as frustrated as her fiancé was and couldn't help but to release the most aggravated sound along with a quick roll of her eyes.

"Just decline it," she urged.

He met her eyes. "Nah. Talk to your little boyfriend."

Before she could protest, he swiped to answer and held the phone out to her.

Wunmi's eyes went wide, panic flickering as she stared at him, trying to understand the challenge in his eyes.

"Michael—" she started, but Tyree's voice cut through.

"Wunmi?"

Michael raised an eyebrow expectantly.

She grabbed the phone with shaky fingers, putting it on speaker.

"Hello?" she said timidly, heart pounding as she knelt between his legs.

Tyree's voice came through the phone, "Hey, gorgeous. What you doing?"

Wunmi shot a quick glance at Michael, biting her lip hard.

"Um...just laying in bed," she murmured.

"Cool. I, uh, just wanted to give you a call so we could talk. It's been a while," Tyree easily replied.

"Mhm, it has," she managed, her free hand fidgeted against Michael's thigh.

Tyree started talking about how the football season was going for him, but Michael took that as his chance. He practically manhandled her. His hands gripped her hips and spun her around to face the end of the bed. He shoved her body down so that her face was buried in the sheets and her ass was in the air.

She gasped at the sudden shift in positions.

"You okay?" Tyree asked.

"I'm fine…" Wunmi swallowed. Her voice shaky as she steadied herself. "

Michael gave her ass a light smack. Wunmi bit her lip hard to stifle the gasp.

He gripped her big, round cheeks in both hands, kneading the soft flesh, spreading her wide. One finger slowly trailed through her dripping wetness, parting her folds, and she let out a breathy sigh.

Tyree kept talking through the speaker, "…I really been thinking about a lot lately and I just gotta say…"

But Wunmi barely registered it. She could only focus on the man behind her and his heated touch. Michael's fingers had found her clit, circling it with teasing pressure, then dipped low to her soaked entrance, sliding a little inside before pulling back out.

She fought to stay quiet, body tensing up, but Tyree pressed on, obliviously.

"You still there? Tell me what you up to this weekend?" It was clear he was expecting a response.

Wunmi opened her mouth to answer Tyree's question, but Michael chose that exact moment to slide deep inside her, filling her completely in one smooth thrust. She clamped down around him, stunned to silence.

He pressed one hand firm between her shoulder blades, pinning her chest flush to the bed, and leaned forward until his lips brushed her ear.

"Answer him," he whispered sending shivers down her spine.

"Uh... n-nothing really," she managed to get out.

Michael gave her a few quick love taps to her inner thigh before pulling back up onto his knees. His gaze dropped to where their bodies joined, watching intently as he slid out slowly, then thrust back in deep.

A quiet, breathy moan escaped her lips. Wunmi moved the phone away from her mouth for a second, sucking in air.

Michael started with a few slow strokes to ease them both into the rhythm, letting her feel every thick inch stretching her. He built it gradually until his pace turned consistent, her ass bouncing softly against his pelvis.

Wunmi put the phone on mute just in time to release her moans. With each bounce a needy cry spilled out.

"You should come out this way soon. When are you free?" Tyree's voice came through the speaker.

She barely processed it. Her mind was wiped blank by Michael fucking her so good, hitting that spot over and over. Nothing existed but her man. All she could think about was the grip of his hands on her hips.

Wunmi took the phone off mute just long enough to gasp out, "I don't know when," before putting it right back on as another loud moan tore free.

"...we could hit this spot I know downtown, grab drinks, see where the night goes..."

Michael smacked her ass hard then, the hit echoing.

She blurted out, "Oh baby," followed by a deep, throaty moan that she couldn't hold back.

He kept one hand planted firm on her jiggling cheek to control the pace.

When he drove especially deep, she moaned out a shaky "Okay". Her free hand shot back, grabbing his forearm tight as he kept fucking her.

Michael ramped up the speed and depth, pounding into her harder, chasing that release for both of them.

Wunmi tried to take it all—she really did—arching back to meet him, but it really overwhelmed her.

"Okay, Michael, okay," she gasped as he went a little deeper than necessary, nailing that spot right next to her cervix.

"What you keep saying okay for?" He smacked her ass , growling, "Like, come on."

He pushed his hips forward, bouncing her roughly on him, urging her to move on her own. She did, but only just enough, rolling her hips back hesitantly.

"You want me to stop?" he demanded.

"No," she moaned out desperately. At this point she'd completely forgotten about the phone in her hand.

Just then Tyree's voice came through loud and clear. "...whoever that fiance of yours is ain't watching you right. Imma come get you for real."

Michael's face twisted up into a scowl, annoyance built up in him. He leaned down over her back, roughly thrusting in in deeper.

"Michael—Michael—fuck," Wunmi moaned his name over and over.

"Looks like Daddy's gonna have to put a baby in you so they know this pussy's mine," he growled against her ear.

"It's yours. I promise."

"Take it off mute so he can hear how good i'm fucking you," he ordered.

Her hand shook as she obeyed, pressing the button on the screen.

The second the phone came off mute, Michael picked up his thrusts. Driving into her so quick and rough it made her ass bounce loud off of his pelvis. The sound of her soaked pussy filled the room.

Wunmi moaned into the sheets, her cries muffled against the fabric, but Michael wasn't having it. He gripped her hair tight, yanking her head up until her back arched deeper.

"Who this pussy get wet for?" he demanded.

"You, Daddy," she gasped.

Tyree's voice came out sounding confused. "Wunmi? What the—?"

Both of them ignored him completely.

Michael smacked her ass again. Then snatched the phone from her weakened grip and held it so Tyree could hear every moan and every slick sound of her taking him.

"Tell him not to call you anymore," Michael said, pressing the phone right to her mouth.

She moaned through the words. "Don't call me anymore."

Michael hung up then tossed the phone across the bed to thud against the pillows.

"Good girl," Michael murmured, palm rubbing soothing circles over her tender ass. "You wanna come?"

"Yes, Daddy," she whimpered. Her body was already right there. She needed this.

"You did so good with your punishment," he praised, grinding against her walls.

Wunmi felt herself clenching hard as her stomach tightened. "Can I come? Please?"

"Yeah, come for me," one of his hands slid around to rub her clit.

She crumbled almost immediately. Her orgasm crashed through her. She cried out his name as her walls pulsed around him and she soaked the sheets.

Michael kept going, chasing his own release now, groans turning guttural as pleasure tightened in his gut.

"You gonna let me put a baby in you?" his voice was rough as he thrusted harder.

Wunmi moaned, nodding into the bed.

They'd had plenty of conversations about babies. They agreed to wait until at least after the wedding, but it was clear that tonight his possessiveness had him acting different. And she melted under it.

Michael thrusted a few more times before he finally released inside her. He held there, pushing deep, feeling her pulse around him. He pulled out slowly.

Wunmi collapsed forward, breathing heavy, chest heaving as aftershocks rippled through her.

"Don't go near that man again," he said firmly, hand stroking her back. "Block him."

Wunmi nodded weakly, turning her head to meet his eyes. "Okay, baby. I'm sorry."

Late January 2027

Now, into the new year, their lives were completely overtaken. Every day belonged to somebody else. There was barely any room left for themselves in between it all.

Michael had officially started press for The Thomas Crown Affair, and his schedule had exploded. Interviews, photoshoots, appearances, magazine covers. It felt endless. Most of it was alongside Adria Arjona, which only fueled certain online conversations even more.

Meanwhile, Wunmi was deep in awards season.

The Social Reckoning had become a big conversation piece of the year, and her performance had the people talking. Every week brought another event, another panel, and another rumor about if she would end up nominated again or not.

And through all of that, they were less than four months away from getting married. May was practically right around the corner.

Earlier in the month they had finally sat down with both of their publicists to figure out how exactly they were going to reveal the relationship publicly without it becoming a circus before the wedding. The final decision had been simple. Michael would handle most of it.

Strategically, it made the most sense.

Wunmi’s team wanted all attention during awards season to stay centered on her work, not her relationship. So Michael had agreed to slowly start opening the door publicly while still keeping things vague enough to maintain some control.

He actually preferred it that way. Mostly because he was tired of hiding her.

After over a year of rumors, especially after the leaked audio, Michael was exhausted from pretending. And since she was his fiancée now, he wanted to share that with the world.

Still timing mattered…a lot. Everything had to be controlled carefully. And unfortunately, control was the one thing their schedules weren’t allowing them to have right now.

Most days they weren’t even in the same city.

There had been recent stretches where they only saw each other through FaceTime screens and blurry airport selfies. Sometimes one of them was waking up while the other was heading to sleep.

It irritated both of them more than they admitted. Especially Michael. He had been so clingy with her, and now he barely even got the chance to breathe in her direction.

Their conversations had slowly become reduced to logistics. Things like wedding updates and travel plans. They hardly talked about things of substance. It wasn't intentional though. It was just all they had time for.

One night, Wunmi was sitting in her London hotel suite while Michael was back in New York finishing another round of press. She had kicked her heels off and was curled sideways across the bed, exhaustion written all over her face as she held her phone up during their FaceTime call.

Michael was sitting in the backseat of an SUV, chain sitting against a black thermal shirt, one hand rubbing tiredly over his jaw while traffic lights flashed outside the window behind him.

“You look tired,” Wunmi murmured softly.

Michael looked at her through the screen.

“I am tired.”

She smiled faintly, “Poor baby.”

“I’m serious,” he muttered. “I done answered the same damn questions all day. I’m over it. ‘How was it working together?’ ‘Did y’all have chemistry?’”

"Well, did you?" Wunmi grinned.

"Don't start," Michael gave her a flat look through the screen.

She giggled softly, resting her cheek against the pillow, “I was just asking.”

Michael shook his head, but his expression softened while looking at her. God, he missed her. He always had this thought during the day, along with the constant irritation that she wasn't there..

“When do I see you again?” he asked suddenly.

Wunmi sighed dramatically.

“Um…” She reached for her planner nearby. “I think…after the BAFTAS?” she started slowly, flipping through pages.

Michael stared at her.

“That’s not for another week, babe.”

“I know.”

“A whole week?”

Wunmi laughed softly at his expression.

“You’ll survive.”

Michael looked unconvinced.

“You say that now,” he said. “Then you gon’ start crying the longer we're apart.”

“I do not cry.”

“You absolutely do.”

Wunmi sucked her teeth softly, “Whatever.”

Michael smiled for the first time during the call, the tiredness easing slightly from his face.

The conversation naturally shifted to the wedding. And despite how exhausted they both were, those conversations kept them intertwined.

Everywhere Michael went there were cameras waiting for him. Going form film festival to awards gala to museum benefit to private dinners. Tonight wasn't any different.

The carpet outside the event was packed shoulder to shoulder with photographers and journalists.

Michael stepped out of the SUV with his black suit perfectly tailored to his body. Confidence radiated off of him without him even trying.

He adjusted the cuff of his jacket before looking up with a calm and controlled expression.

His publicist walked beside him briefly while fixing the front of his jacket.

“She approved it,” she murmured quietly.

Michael glanced at her.

“Yeah?”

She nodded.

His mouth twitched slightly.

“Aight,” he nodded.

He moved down the carpet, stopping for photos, greeting people, and shaking hands. As he approached the press line, he relaxed himself.

Interview after interview rolled by. They asked him the typical questions about directing, balancing acting and filmmaking. Michael answered each question like he had prepped for it.

Then he reached one platform in particular.

A Black woman stood there holding the microphone, smiling brightly as he approached.

“Michael B. Jordan!” she grinned. “You look good tonight.”

Michael laughed, “Thank you.”

“Everybody's talking about your film already. But what was it like stepping into directing mode again?” she started.

“It was challenging,” he admitted. “But I think I’m at a point now where I trust myself more creatively. I know how I wanna tell stories now. And honestly, I learned a lot from the last few years. Working with different directors, producing more, it changed how I look at filmmaking.”

The interviewer nodded along.

“And you can tell,” she said. “Especially after the year you had last year. Mr. Oscar winner. How has life changed since then? Because it feels like the world has not stopped talking about you.”

Michael laughed softly.

“It's definitely gotten more chaotic,” he admitted. “But I try to stay grounded and keep moving forward.”

The interviewer tilted her head slightly.

“So what does moving forward look like for you now? More directing? Less acting?”

Michael paused for a second.

“Well…” he started slowly, “where I’m at now in my life and career I'm focused on celebrating my wins. And I got some pretty big ones that I need to make room for.”

A tiny smirk pulled at the corner of his mouth.

"As you should," The interviewer smiled.

“I wanna spend more time focused on my family. So there’s definitely a chance I slow down a little," he said honestly. "My fiancée and I have both been incredibly busy with all that's going on in our careers and now wedding planning. But I've been trying to figure out how to even get to the point of slowing down."

The interviewer looked stunned.

“Wow, um…when—”

Michael stepped back with the biggest smirk trying to break across his face.

“You have good one,” he laughed.

“Michael!”

He pointed at her playfully, “Appreciate you though.”

Then before she could ask another question, he walked off down the carpet looking satisfied with himself. He made his way inside, barely even slowing down as he reached for his phone that was in his pocket. There was only one person he wanted to talk to right now.

He tapped Wunmi’s contact immediately. The phone rang a few times before she answered.

“Hello?”

Her voice was thick with sleep.

Michael’s face melted.

“Hey baby.”

There was rustling on the other end followed by a small sleepy hum.

“What time is it?” she murmured.

Michael smiled to himself as he ducked into a quieter hallway away from the crowd.

“Not that late. Why you sleep already?”

Wunmi sighed into the phone.

“I’m so tired.”

"You okay, Mama?" Michael’s brows pulled together.

“Mhm,” she hummed quietly.

He leaned back against the wall, listening to her breathing through the phone.

“I can’t wait for all this to be over,” she admitted sleepily.

Michael chuckled under his breath, “Me too.”

There was a quiet pause before Wunmi spoke again.

“Did you do it?”

Michael’s grin spread, “Yeah.”

He could practically hear her smiling through the phone even though she barely made a sound. Just a quiet little hum.

Michael shook his head fondly.

“That’s it?” he laughed quietly. “That’s all I get?”

“You woke me up,” she mumbled.

“You're supposed to be excited.”

“I am excited. I'm just sleepy, Mike,” she said.

Michael could picture her perfectly. She was probably curled up in a hotel robe, hair wrapped up, and half asleep with the phone pressed against her face. He missed her so much.

“You gon’ be at the honoring next week?” he asked after a moment.

There was a pause. Then Wunmi sighed.

“…Baby. It's next week with the BAFTAs and my team scheduled a bunch of press here,” she reminded him.

“Damn," He briefly closed his eyes. "So when will I see you again?”

“A week and a half maybe,” she said quietly.

Michael dragged a hand over his face dramatically.

“That's so long”

Wunmi laughed tiredly.

“You’ll survive.”

“That’s what you keep saying.”

“Because you will.”

Michael shook his head with a smile.

“Barely.”

There was another comfortable silence between them.

“Imma let you sleep.”

“Okay.”

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

“And I miss you so much.”

Wunmi exhaled softly through the phone.

“I miss you too,” she whispered. “I’m sorry I couldn’t come.”

Michael’s expression softened even more.

“Don’t apologize. I’m just being needy.”

That earned another sleepy laugh from her.

“Very needy.”

“Mhm.”

“I still love you though.”

“You better.”

Wunmi smiled against her pillow.

“Goodnight, Michael.”

“Goodnight, baby.”

The front door flew open harder than it needed to. Annie stepped inside, her heels hitting the floor sharp and fast, her purse barely hanging onto her shoulder as she pushed the door shut behind her.

Marcus and her grandmother both looked up from where they were sitting.

“What happened?” Marcus asked, halfway up from his seat just off the energy alone.

Annie didn’t even slow down.

“All men are the same,” she snapped, tossing her purse down on the nearest chair without looking. “All of 'em.”

Her grandmother’s eyes narrowed slightly, watching her closely.

Marcus frowned. “What you mean? What happened—”

“They all want the same thing,” Annie kept going, pacing now, her hands moving as she talked. “That’s it. That’s all it ever is. And when you don’t give it to them, suddenly it’s a problem.”

Marcus’s expression hardened instantly. “It's a problem for who? Elijah?”

Annie let out a frustrated sound. “Yes, Elijah. Who else?”

“What he do?” Marcus asked, stepping closer. “Where he at?”

But Annie wasn’t really focused on answering his questions.

She was upset and talking quick. Frustration spilling out faster than she could control.

“I’m not ready for that,” she continued, her voice tight.

Marcus’s jaw clenched. “What he say to you? Where he live at? Do I need to talk to him?”

He was ready to act on whatever version of the story he was building in his head.

“Marcus,” his mother’s voice cut in.

He paused, looking back at her.

“Sit down,” she said firmly.

“He—Ma, you hear what she saying?” Marcus pushed.

“I hear her,” she replied, her eyes still on Annie. “And I hear what she not saying too.”

Marcus frowned. “What that mean?”

“It mean you hush up,” she said simply.

Marcus let out a frustrated breath but didn’t move again.

Annie barely noticed either of them at this point. She was still pacing and talking, her words running together now.

“They just think because they nice to you or say a few sweet things that you supposed to give them whatever they want,” she said, shaking her head. “And I’m not doing that. I’m just not.”

Her grandmother watched her carefully, catching the little things. Annie was speaking vaguely, her voice shifting in tone when she said certain things. There was a lot more there, but she let her talk.

Annie abruptly grabbed her purse and turned toward the stairs.

“I’m done with it,” she muttered, more to herself than them.

“Annie—” Marcus started.

But she was already headed up the stairs. Her steps were heavy and her voice could be heard as she moved down the hall, words muffled but still full of frustration. Then her bedroom door slammed shut.

Annie leaned back against the closed door, her chest rising and falling as everything from anger to confusion to embarrassment caught up to her now that it was quiet.

She pushed off the door and moved toward her bed, sitting down before laying back to stare up at the ceiling. Her mind replayed the good and the bad of the night.

She turned onto her side, pulling the covers over herself even though she wasn’t cold.

But things didn’t end when Annie closed her eyes. All of those feelings just carried over to Sunday morning.

Annie woke up irritated and moved through the house with a heaviness to her steps. Her responses were short and her patience thin.

And her grandmother wasn't with it.

“Fix your face,” she muttered the first time Annie sucked her teeth too loud in the kitchen.

But Annie didn’t.

And at church, it only got worse.

Annie sat stiff in the pew with her arms crossed and her responses were flat and dry when someone tried to greet her.

Her grandmother didn’t even warn her, she just gave her a quick hit to her arm.

Annie huffed under her breath, but a few minutes later she went right back to muttering and rolling her eyes.

After church, they stopped by the grocery store and usually, Annie would be talking and laughing with people they ran into or helping pick things out, but not today.

Today, she walked beside the cart like she didn’t want to be there, answering questions with one-word responses, and barely acknowledging anyone who spoke to her.

“Hey Annie, how you been?”

“I’m good.”

And she kept walking.

Her grandmother side-eyed her more than once but didn’t say anything.

When they got home that afternoon, Annie still hadn’t shaken it. If anything, it had only gotten worse. So when there was a knock on the door that evening, she wasn't in the mood.

Annie got to the door pulling it open just enough to step outside and close it behind her.

Her friends stood there with curious looks on their faces.

“Well?” Monica started immediately. “How was—”

“It wasn’t,” Annie cut in.

Michelle blinked. “What do you mean it wasn’t—”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Annie said, her tone sharp, final. “And I don’t want company right now, so y’all can just go.”

The three of them stared at her completely confused.

“Annie, what is wrong with you?” Lillian asked slowly.

“Nothing's wrong. I just don't want company,” Annie snapped.

Michelle stepped forward slightly. “We just tryin' to check on you—”

“I didn’t ask you to,” Annie shot back.

Now they were looking at her like they didn’t recognize her.

“Okay, now you going a little too far. All we was tryin' to do was check and see how your date with Elijah went,” Monica said, crossing her arms.

“And I said I don’t want to talk about it!” Annie raised her voice, frustration spilling over.

An interesting silence fell between them, because Annie didn’t get like this ever.

“Why you actin' like this?” Michelle asked softly.

Annie shook her head. “Y’all need to just leave me alone.”

Before anything else could be said the front door swung open behind her.

“Annie!” Her grandmother’s voice boomed onto the street.

“Get your ass in this house.”

Annie braced herself as she stepped toward the door. And as she passed by, a hard hit landed against her arm.

Annie flinched, the sting was immediate as she looked back. “Mama—!”

“You know better than this,” her grandmother snapped. “Walking around here with that nasty attitude ‘cause you couldn’t get your coochie squeezed.”

Annie’s face burned in embarrassment instantly.

Her friends looked on in shock before laughing at how ridiculous the older woman could be.

“Get in the house,” her grandmother repeated, not budging.

Annie shot them one last irritated and embarrassed glare, before turning and storming inside.

Her grandmother stepped out just enough to face the girls, her expression softening slightly.

“Y’all come back another time,” she said. “She’ll be alright.”

They nodded, still laughing a little as they started backing away.

“Alright, Ms. Richard. We’ll check on her later!”

She waved them off before closing the door.

When she looked around, she saw that Annie was halfway across the living room.

“Sit down,” her grandmother said.

Annie paused and turned around. “For what?”

Her grandmother gave her a look that said she wasn't playing.

“Sit down, now. And I ain't gone say it again”

Annie let out a quiet, frustrated breath, but she sat. Because she knew she wasn’t getting out of this talk.

When Monday came and Annie still hadn't called, Elijah felt disrupted. He tried to focus on work, but his mind was completely on her.

Things at the shop started slowing down, so Ray let some of them go home a bit earlier. Elijah knew sitting around wasn’t going to fix anything, so he decided to do something about his mind.

Later that afternoon, he stood on Annie’s porch with a small bouquet of flowers in one hand and a folded note in the other. He knocked on the door and waited.

He knew she wouldn’t be there because she was still at the school, but that was the point. He wasn’t ready for another face-to-face like that yet.

After a minute, the door opened and Ms. Annette stood there looking him up and down.

“Well,” she said, stepping back. “Come on in.”

Elijah nodded respectfully then stepped inside. “Yes ma’am.”

She closed the door behind him, turning to face him properly now.

“What you here for?” she asked, arms folding loosely across her chest.

Elijah held the flowers a little tighter. “I came to apologize to Annie.”

Her expression didn’t change much.

“She at work,” she said.

“I know. That's why I wans't gonna stay. I was just gonna leave these for her,” he replied.

Annette watched him for a little longer like she was searching for something. Then she huffed softly, and pointed up the stairs.

“Her room is upstairs. It's the last door on the right,” she said.

Elijah nodded. “Thank you.”

The stairs creaked lightly under his steps as he made his way up. He reached the hallway and walked down it until he reached the right door. He pushed it open gently and stepped inside.

Her room looked soft and put together. There were little things everywhere. Books stacked neatly on a table. A folded blanket at the end of her bed. He noticed the warm colors and the details. There were little things that made him think of conversations they’d had. It all looked exactly how he expected her room to look.

He walked over to the desk, set the flowers down carefully, and placed the note beside them.

Elijah turned and headed back toward the door, careful not to touch anything else on his way out. He pulled the door closed behind him and made his way back downstairs.

He reached the bottom step and headed toward the front door, ready to just slip out.

“Elijah, come help me with these peas.”

He stopped.

Her grandmother’s voice came from deeper in the house.

He turned slightly, following the sound toward the kitchen.

When he stepped in, he saw her seated at the table with a large bowl in the middle. Brown paper bags of green beans were side by side around the bowl. Her hands were moving quickly, snapping and pulling some of the beans without her even looking down.

She pointed to the chair across from her. "Sit."

Elijah did as he was told. He pulled the chair out and sat down, picking up a handful of beans slowly, like he wasn’t fully sure what to do. He watched her for a second before mimicking the way she snapped the ends and pulled the strings down.

The kitchen filled with a quiet rhythm for a while.

“Elijah,” she said, not looking up. “Why are you here?”

He paused slightly, glancing up at her.

“I brought those flowers for Annie to apo—”

“No. Why are you here in Baltimore?” She cut him off.

He frowned a little confused as he tried to follow what she was asking.

“I told you. I came to get help,” he said slowly.

She made a small disapproving sound under her breath. Then looked up at him.

“I ain’t no fool and you ain't gone make me out to be one,” she said plainly. “Cousin Charlie done already told me. So you need to get to talkin',” she added.

He looked at her as he realized this wasn’t going to be just a casual conversation. His hands started moving slowly now like he was trying to control them before they started trembling. He took one deep breath, then another.

“When I was overseas, it was hard to survive” he started quietly. “I had been fighting for so long it felt like that’s all I was doing.”

His eyes dropped to his hands as he worked, the motion steady but slower than before.

“Every night I had these real bad nightmares. I couldn't sleep no matter how tired I was. My mind wouldn't shut off,” he continued.

Annette stayed quiet, giving him space to say his truth.

“I remember one night I went outside,” he said. “Figured if I wore myself out enough, maybe I’d sleep right. But I ain’t make it back in. I just fell asleep out there. And I had this dream.”

He let out a quiet breath.

“It was the best one I ever had," he said. "At first, I ain't know what I was looking at. I just remember she was standing in a kitchen. I really couldn't see much, but I knew she was beautiful. And after that, they ain’t stop.”

He shook his head faintly.

“I got discharged after I got hurt,” he added. “And I couldn’t just let it go. I went from Chicago to Mississippi to Louisiana lokiing for her. I was out there searching day and night. I didn't know her name, I just knew what I saw.”

He let out a breath through his nose.

“When I was in Louisiana, I met Charlie and he told me about Twigs. He said if I was gonna find her she'd be up here. So I came.”

Mama Nette didn’t look surprised by the statement.

“Well, I'm glad my root worked,” she said, dropping another snapped bean into the bowl, “Almost thought I had lost my touch.”

Elijah’s hands stopped completely and looked up at her like he misheard.

“…Your root?” he repeated slowly. “You one of them witches?!”

She sucked her teeth loud, not even looking up this time.

“I ain’t no witch,” she said flatly. “And you keep working.”

Elijah blinked, staring at her. His mind was trying to catch up to what she just said. But he slowly picked the beans back up.

“How you doing magic then go sit up in church every Sunday? I thought you was Christian?,” he shook his head a little as he went back to snapping.

She let out a laught that made his frown deeper.

“Boy, you think ’cause I go to church I can’t work a root?” she asked while looking up at him again.

He didn’t answer right away. Because, yeah, that’s exactly what he thought.

She shook her head, amused.

“I’m from the South where folks in church been doing rootwork all their lives. Some know it, some don’t. It get passed down the same way anything else do. It's in us."

Elijah looked down at his hands again, trying to make sense of it all.

“So, just like that you sent me a dream?” he asked.

“Ain’t just like that,” she said. “It took some time.”

He exhaled through his nose. After a second, he glanced up again.

“Does Annie do it?” he asked curiously.

Because in all the time he’d known her, he’d never seen her do anything like that.

“She know some things, but not much. She ain't had the time to really learn,” she said. And I think you and that church been filling her head up.”

Elijah frowned at that.

“What you mean?”

“She wasn’t this locked up back home,” Mama Nette said plainly.

Elijah looked down, his mind moving through everything she was saying. He thought about the way Annie carried herself. And for the first time he wondered how much of that wasn't just her.

Elijah sat there for a moment, turning her words over in his head, his fingers slowing again against the beans.

“…So is that why Annie’s a—”

He stopped himself. It felt wrong to say it out loud. Like it wasn’t his place to put a word on her like that, even though it had already been said between them.

“Annie a what? A virgin?” she asked.

Elijah shifted slightly in his seat, but she didn’t give him time to get uncomfortable with it.

“You can say it to me,” she added, then went right back to her work. “But no. That ain’t it. She love church, but not for what you thinking. It’s a place she can go to spread her wings and love on people the way she meant to. Church ain’t nothing more than a building where folks come together and build community. That’s all it ever been to me, so that's what I taught her.”

She glanced up at him briefly.

“Besides we ain’t never went to one of them strict churches that make you dress and act a certain way to keep an appearance. You supposed to lead with love because that’s who you are. That’s who she is." she added.

Elijah listened quietly. He looked down at his hands, then back up at her.

“Then do you know why she is?” he asked. This time, his voice was more careful.

Annette’s hands stilled, but only for a second. A small heavy smile touched her face. She looked up at him like she was deciding how much to say and how much he deserved to hear.

Mama Nette held his gaze for a moment longer, then asked, calm as ever, “Elijah, how old are you?”

“Almost 27 now, but it don’t feel that way. Feel like I been here forever.”

“I can see it in your eyes that you know what it is to live through life. You seen some things you might never forget. But it helped make you the man you are,” she said.

Elijah nodded once. “Yes ma’am.”

“Annie a virgin ’cause she know what it means to not take care of her responsibility. And she don’t want to risk it. That ain’t the whole reason, but it’s a big part of it. You want kids, Elijah?”

He blinked, caught off guard, his answer stumbling out before he could really think it through.

“I—I think I do.”

“You know how many kids I got?”

He shook his head lightly. “Ain’t never heard of nobody else ’cept Ray and Marcus.”

That made her hum.

“I got six,” she said. “Three boys and three girls. The oldestis William. Then Clarisse…she got my gift. Then Rose. Then Ray. Then Mariah…” she paused just slightly, “…that’s Annie’s mama. Then Marcus.”

Elijah quietly listened, trying to take it all in.

“All six of my children live they own life,” she continued. “I don’t try to make ’em live it no other way but their own. Annie ever tell you about her mama?”

Elijah shook his head. “She didn’t want to talk about it when I asked.”

Mama Nette nodded slowly, like she expected that answer.

“Mm,” she hummed.

And the way she went quiet after that told him everything he needed to know.

“Mariah had Annie when she was about eighteen or nineteen,” she began. “It was a real rough time with her in my house. She ain’t never wanna do right and always wanted things to go her way. Now ain’t nothing wrong with being who you are, but you got to take responsibility for it too.”

Elijah listened, his hands barely keeping up with hers.

“She had this little boyfriend. He was a nasty, dirty boy and I ain't like him from the start. I tried to get her to leave him alone but she ain't wanna hear me,” Mama Nette went on, her lip curling slightly. “I taught all my kids about sex and what could come with it. Mariah ain't care nothing about my lessons, and neither did Marcus. But the difference between them, Marcus stayed and took care of his."

“I guess she got tired of me pressing her about that boy, 'cause she ran off when she was seventeen.” she said. "She came back pregnant a year or so later. She was crying, tellin' me how that boy ain't want bno baby and was gonna put her out if she ain't get rid of it."

Elijah’s brows pulled together slightly.

“I told her she could stay, but I wasn't helping her get rid of no baby when she was so far along,” Mama Nette said. “When I said that, she threw a fit. But she stayed. And I'll never forget that night when everything went wrong between us.”

Her hands slowed as the air in the kitchen got thicker.

“We was all sitting at the table, eating dinner and she just looked different. The way she was looking at me all night wasn't normal. Later on, she asked me if I would keep the baby 'cause she wasn't ready to be somebody's mama.”

A small breath left her.

“I was upset,” she admitted. “After everything I taught my kids, here she come asking me to take on something that wasn’t mine. But I told her I would under the condition that if I take that baby, she won't ever see it again. From the moment the baby given to me to the moment the baby die.”

She sat back just slightly.

“But that wasn’t just me being cruel,” she went on. “Mariah was my baby too. Why would I wanna keep her from her child?”

She shook her head.

“No. I wanted her to understand something that actions got consequences. And if I’m gon’ take care of something I ain’t had no hand in making, then I get full say in what happen. Especially when no baby asked to be here. And especially not to two no-good parents.” Annette said sharply.

“When I told her that, she got real mad. She said it was her baby and she could come see her whenever she wanted. She said how could a mother do something like this to her child.”

A faint scoff left her.

“Her and Rose had always been close, so Rose got upset too,” she added. “But I stood my ground. Both of 'em left and that was the last time I heard from 'em. A few weeks later, I opened my front door to leave for church when I heard the loudest cries. I looked down and there she was. Couldn’t have been more than a few hours old 'cause she wasn't even cleaned off good. I picked her up and took her straight to the hospital. I gave her my name so she would know she would always have somebody. It's been me and Annie ever since."

“I tried to teach her everything I know,” she added. “Let her learn what she could. But some things, a child learns on their own with no help or warning."

Seven-year-old Annie Richard walked down the sidewalk with her little bookbag bouncing against her back, her shoes scuffing the ground as she kicked at a loose rock in front of her. She was humming a hymn she heard in church, completely in her own little world. Her hair was done up in twists with little ribbons tied at the ends and her dress was just a little wrinkled from sitting in it all day at school.

She paused when she got to the corner store, pushing the door open with a small grunt, the bell above it jingling as she stepped inside.

Annie walked straight to the candy aisle like she’d done it a hundred times before, her small fingers trailing along the shelves as she scanned everything. Her eyes lit up as soon as she spotted what she wanted. She reached up on her tiptoes, stretching just a little to grab a bright bag of candy from the rack.

Her fingers had just wrapped around it, when another hand grabbed it too. Annie looked up completely startled.

A pretty woman stood there, but something about her felt off.

“You like those?” the woman asked, her voice was far softer than her stare.

Annie nodded, holding onto the bag. “Mhm. I’m getting it to share with my friend.”

Her voice was sweet, yet matter of fact.

The woman’s fingers slowly loosened from the bag, but her eyes didn’t leave Annie’s face. She squinted slightly like she was trying to place something.

“You from around here?” she asked.

Annie nodded again. “Mhm. I’m going to my friend house.”

The woman hummed under her breath, her eyes moving over Annie’s face taking everything in. Behind her, a man stood a few feet away, watching them quietly. His posture was more relaxed, but his eyes were just as fixed.

“Who your mama?” the woman asked next.

Annie shifted slightly, hugging the candy bag to her chest now.

“I don't have a mama, only my grandma,” she said. “Ms Annette Richard.”

The woman’s lips parted just slightly, her eyes sharpening with recognition.

The resemblance was clear as day, and her thoughts were just confirmed.

“What’s your name, baby?” she asked.

Annie answered without hesitation.

“Annette, but everybody call me Annie.”

The woman's hand lifted slowly, like she wanted to reach out to touch her face, but she stopped herself halfway. A mix of regret and guilt flowed through her body all at once, but she swallowed it down and forced a smile.

“That’s a pretty name,” she said softly.

Annie beamed at that while gripping her candy.

“Thank you.”

The woman glanced back at the man behind her then she looked back at Annie.

"Do you know who I am?” she asked.

Annie shook her head.

“I’m…” she started, but paused. “…I’m your mama.”

Annie blinked. She was confused now. This didn't make any sense.

“My mama?” she repeated, her brows pulling together slightly.

She glanced toward the man, then back at the woman. The woman nodded slowly.

“And this is your daddy…” she said, gesturing lightly.

The man gave a small nod, like he didn’t quite know what to do with himself.

Annie just stood there, holding her candy, looking between them. Her little face scrunched slightly as she tried to understand when it didn’t fit with anything she’d ever known.

“My grandma my mama,” she said softly.

The woman’s smile faltered for just a second. She looked like she didn’t know what to say next.

Annie just stood there with her small hands tightened little by little as she looked between the woman and the man. Her mama? Her daddy?

Ms Annette Richard had never told little Annie a lie. Not once. But she never said who her mama was either. Never gave her a face or name. So now her little mind was trying to make sense of something that had never been explained.

“I ain’t never heard of you,” Annie said honestly.

“She ain’t never mention me?” Mariah asked softly.

Annie shook her head. “No ma’am.”

Mariah shifted, stepping just a little closer, lowering herself some so she wasn’t towering over Annie.

“Well…” she started, her voice turning gentle and coaxing. “Would you like to get to know your mama and daddy?”

Her grandmother had always told her that her mama didn’t want her. And always said it in a way that Annie never questioned. So why was this woman standing here saying something different?

Annie’s chest felt tight all of a sudden. She felt a little hurt, curious, and just upset enough to fall into her "mama's" trap.

And just enough upset to make her look at this woman a little longer than she should’ve.

“How I know you my mama?” Annie asked carefully.

Mariah paused trying to think of anything that would bring recognition to the small girl. Then it hit her.

“Well, when I was pregnant with you I carved a little 'M' in the dining room table.” she said slowly.

Annie’s eyes widened instantly and a soft gasp left her mouth. Because she knew exactly what the woman was talking about.

The little letter was scratched into the wood, right near the edge on the right side of the table. Annie had traced it with her fingers a hundred times. She always thought Uncle Marcus did it. That’s what made sense.

Her little brain latched onto this information too fast.

“I know that,” Annie whispered.

Her eyes flicked up to Mariah again. She was a little more open and accepting now.

Mariah saw that and pressed just a little further.

“Come on and spend some time with us,” she said softly, holding her hand out.

Annie hesitated. Her eyes flicked toward the door, but then she looked back at the older woman and the man behind her. The curiousity won her over and she slowly placed her small hand into Mariah's.

Mariah’s fingers quickly closed around hers like she didn't want her to pull away. She gently took the candy from Annie’s other hand, guiding her toward the front of the store.

“Let’s pay for this first,” she said.

They walked up to the counter, Annie glancing back at her “daddy” who followed behind them.

Mariah set the candy on the counter, then looked back at him expectantly. His face tensed up slightly, like the idea of spending even a few cents on her irritated him. But under her look, he reached into his pocket anyway, pulled out the change, and dropped it on the counter.

The cashier barely paid them any mind and bagged up the candy.

Mariah took Annie’s hand again to lead her out of the store. The bell from the store door rung out as Annie was guided toward a nice shiny car. Mariah opened the back door for her.

“Go on, baby,” she said softly.

Annie climbed in, her little legs pulling up after her as she sat carefully on the seat, her candy bag resting in her lap. She looked around the inside of the car. It was clean and sweet smelling.

Her “daddy” got in the front without saying much, starting the car with a quiet turn of the key. Mariah got in beside him and they drove off.

Annie sat up straight, watching everything pass by her window. The further they went, the less familiar everything became. She was quiet as she watched the changing scenery. Every now and then, she’d glance up at the back of Mariah’s head, then at the man driving, then back out the window.

She was trying to make it all make sense. She was feeling so many things from excitement to scared, but mostly she was unsure.

It felt like a long time before the car finally slowed.

They turned off onto a busy street, and then pulled up in front of a really big house that made Annie look on in awe. It was far nicer than anything she's seen before. Her eyes widened just a little as she pressed her hand against the window.

“This your house?” she asked softly.

Mariah smiled. “It is.”

The car stopped and the man got out first.

Mariah turned back to Annie. “Come on.”

When they got inside the house, it was entirely too quiet. Everything was incredibly still.

Annie stepped in, her shoes soft against the floor as she looked around. It didn't feel like home yet.

Mariah didn’t seem to notice Annie's hesitancy. She took Annie’s hand again and led her to the stairs.

“I wanna show you something,” she said.

They went upstairs. Each step creaking just slightly under Annie’s feet as she climbed.

Mariah walked down the hall, stopping at a door and pushed it open.

“This is going to be your room,” she said, stepping aside.

Annie peeked in.

“My room?” she asked.

Mariah smiled like she'd been waiting for this exact moment.

Annie stepped inside slowly.

It was nice. There was a big bed with clean sheets and a floral cover, and a dresser near a large window with pretty lace curtains over it.

None of this felt like hers. There were no books or pretty flowers or her favorite dolls. It was just a simple room.

“You can do whatever you want in here,” Mariah said from the doorway.

Annie nodded slowly. “Okay.”

Mariah lingered for a second longer then left, her footsteps fading down the hall.

And Annie was alone.

She sat on the edge of the bed, pulling her candy into her lap. She opened it carefully, taking out one piece and popping it into her mouth.

She reached for another, but her grandmother’s voice echoed in her head clear as day.

Don’t spoil your dinner.

Annie huffed but decided to close the bag, and set it beside her to save it.

She decided to explore a little so she got up. She walked around the house a little, really only going from the stairs to the living room to the kitchen. She somehow found her way to the back door.

Outside, the yard behind the house was big with enough space to run around. So she did.

She spent hours running and playing made up games in her head like she always did when she was by herself. And, eventually, when her little body got tired she made her way inside.

The house was still quiet and empty-feeling.

She went upstairs on her own, remembering where the room Mariah showed her was. She found a bathroom nearby and ran herself a bath the way her grandmother had done. She washed herself quickly, the warm water relaxing her just enough to make her eyelids feel heavy.

Afterward, she found some clothes in the dresser and pulled them on. They were a little too big but still wearable.

Her stomach rumbled softly, so she went downstairs again, opened the fridge, and looked inside. There wasn’t much she recognized, but she found some milk and fruit. She ate quietly at the counter.

When she finished, she cleaned up behind herself then went back upstairs. She climbed into the bed slowly, pulling the covers up over her small frame. Annie stared up at the ceiling. Her mind was tired but still trying to understand everything. None of it felt real yet. She turned onto her side, pulling the blanket closer. And eventually she fell asleep.

Back at the Richard house, the smell of something good filled the kitchen. Annette moved around, one hand stirring a pot while the other reached for some seasoning without even needing to look.

The screen door creaked open and heavy footsteps came in behind it.

“Ma?” Ray’s voice carried through the house.

Mama Nette didn’t turn right away. “In here.”

Ray stepped into the kitchen, dusting his hands together. His presence filled the room different. He leaned down, pressing a quick kiss to the side of his mama’s head.

“Mmm. You getting skinnier on me,” she hummed.

He chuckled. “I'm the same size I was last time.”

She finally looked at him, giving him a once-over anyway like she didn’t quite believe that.

“Where Annie at?” he asked, glancing toward the hallway like she might come skipping out.

Annette went back to her pot. “At Cece’s. But she ‘posed to be back soon now.”

“I’ll go get her.” Ray was beyond ready to see his niece.

Mama Nette gave a small hum of acknowledgment.

Ray turned and left the house.

Cece's house wasn't far, only a few blocks over, so it didn't take him long to get there. He pulled up in front of the house and cut his engine. He stepped out, stretching once before heading up the short walkway, and knocked twice on the door.

The door opened a moment later, Cece’s mama standing there, wiping her hands on her apron.

“Well hey, Ray,” she greeted, surprised but smiling. “You back in town?”

“Yes ma’am,” he said politely, nodding. “I came to grab Annie. She over here?”

There was a small pause.

Cece’s mama frowned slightly. “Annie?”

“Yeah. My mama said she was over here with Cece,” Ray’s brows pulled together just a bit.

Cece’s mama shook her head slowly. “Baby, Annie ain’t been over here today.”

Ray blinked. “What you mean she ain’t been over here?”

“She ain’t come by at all,” she said, more firmly now. “Cece been here with me all afternoon.”

Ray's body subtly tensed up.

“You sure?” he asked, even though he could already tell by her face that she was.

“Yes, I’m sure.”

Silence stretched between them for a beat.

“Alright,” he said lowly. “Thank you.”

“You want me to—”

“No ma'am,” he cut in gently, stepping back.

Cece’s mama watched him for a second, concern starting to creep onto her face as he turned and headed back toward his car.

The second Ray got in, he shut the door harder than he needed to. His hands gripped the steering wheel tightly and his mind was moving fast. He pulled off, trying not to be too reckless.

His eyes scanned every sidewalk and corner he passed. He looked at every group of kids he went by. Because something wasn’t right.

He turned back onto his mama’s street and that feeling had only gotten worse. The car barely stopped before he was out of it, striding up the steps and pushing through the door.

“Ma!”

Annette turned around, took one good look at his face, and she knew.

“She never made it over there," Ray's breath was coming out heavier.

Annette set her spoon down slowly as she took in her son's words.

“What you mean she ain’t make it?”

Ray ran a hand over his head, pacing across the kitchen.

“I mean Cece mama said Annie ain’t been there all day.”

She turned toward the counter, wiping her hands off because she needed something to do with them.

“Go check that store on the corner,” she said. “Annie like to stop there for candy sometimes.”

“Okay.”

He didn’t waste another second. He practically ran out the door to get back in the car. He zipped down the road with his fingers tapping hard against the steering wheel and his leg bouncing restlessly.

She know better than to be wandering off.

That thought kept repeating in his head over and over.

He pulled up to the small corner store, not even bothering to park straight before he was out the car and heading inside.

The bell above the door rang and the man behind the counter looked up.

“Evenin’—”

“Did a little girl come in here earlier?” Ray cut in. “She 'bout this tall, with twists in her hair?"

The man squinted as if he was thinking. The he nodded in recognition.

“Yeah, she did.”

Relief hit Ray for half a second, but disappeared just as fast.

“When?” Ray pressed.

“Couple hours ago now,” the man said. “She came in, bought some candy.”

Ray leaned forward slightly. “She leave by herself?”

The man shook his head slowly. “No.”

“What you mean no?”

“She left with a man and a woman,” the man said.

Everything in Ray’s body went tight.

“What man?” His voice dropped.

“I don’t know ‘em,” the man shrugged. “Thought it was her folks or somethin’. They was talkin’ to her like they knew her.”

Ray’s hands clenched into fists at his sides. His chest rose and fell sharply.

“She don’t know them,” he said, more to himself than anything.

The man blinked. “Well, she walked out with ‘em. It ain’t look like nothin’ was wrong.”

That didn’t help much because Annie was polite little girl. Sweet enough to talk to anybody and listen to anything.

Ray dragged a hand down his face.

“You see which way they went?” he asked.

The man pointed vaguely toward the street. “That way.”

"Thank you," Ray nodded tensely.

When he pulled back up to the house, Ray felt like he was losing it. His breathing was heavy and his mind was jumbled with all the what-ifs.

“Ma!”

Annette walked toward him as soon as he got in the door.

“She was at the store earlier, but the man said she left with somebody,” he said. “It was a man and a woman and that they was talkin’ to her like they knew her. And she know better than that, Ma. You done told her—”

“I know what I told her,” Annette snapped.

She went to the phone, picked it up, and started turning the dial to call people. She was going to call her other sons, and she knew the word would spread fast from there.

At some point in the night, Annie stirred awake from the sudden loudness in the house. A sharp burst of laughter somewhere in the house fully brought her out of her sleep. Her small body shifted under the covers, brows knitting together as her eyes fluttered open in the dark.

For a second, she didn’t remember where she was. The ceiling above her wasn’t the one she knew.

The sounds felt like they were coming from far away yet were rigth in the room with her. The voices were layered and people were laughing and talking with each other.

Annie pushed herself up slowly, the blanket slipping down into her lap as she sat there, listening. She was utterly confused because the house had been so quiet before, but now it sounded alive.

Her little feet slid out from under the covers and carefully touched the floor. She hesitantly glanced toward the door. Curiosity tugged at her hard, so she slowly crept to the door. Her hand wrapped around the knob, turning it just enough to ease it open without a sound.

The hallway upstairs was dim with only a faint glow from downstairs creeping up the staircase. Annie stepped out, her small frame barely making a sound as she moved closer to the banister. Annie gripped the railing slightly, her fingers curling around the wood as she tried to make sense of what she was seeing.

And when she looked down her eyes widened. People were crowded around pressed close together. Music played loud enough now that she could feel it faintly in her chest. Smoke curled up toward the ceiling, making everything look hazy.

She stepped back from the stairs. Her heart was beating a little faster, but not from excitement.

She didn’t want to go downstairs and she knew she wasn’t ever supposed to get out of bed. Everything about what she had just seen made her want to stay where she was safe. So instead, she turned down the hallway and walked slowly.

Little Annie moved passed the doors, some were closed and others were barely shut. One in particular caught her attention. It was cracked open just enough. The voices inside didn't sound like the ones coming from downstairs.

Annie paused at the open door, her head tilting slightly as she listened. The voices sounded breathy and lighter than anything she's ever heard.

Curiosity got to her again, so she stepped closer. Her small hand lifted, pressing lightly against the door as she leaned in just enough to peek through the opening.

She saw a man and a woman tangled together in a way she had never seen before. The woman’s head tilted back, her voice breaking out in a sound Annie didn’t understand, while the man hovered over her.

Annie’s breath caught as she realized that they were both naked. A sharp, startled gasp slipped out of her before she could stop it.

Her eyes went wide as she took the sight in. None of this looked right and she didn't like. Her stomach twisted and she was confused. So without a second thought she ran.

Her feet hit the floor quickly as she hurried back down the hall, the sounds from that room chasing after her in her head. She pushed into her room, shutting the door fast behind her.

She scrambled back to the bed, climbing up onto it like the noises might follow her.

Her hands instantly flew up to her ears to cover them. Her eyes squeezed shut, her face scrunching as she tried to block everything out. Annie's small body curled in on itself and her heart raced. She was far too overwhelmed for her liking.

Because she didn’t know what she had just seen and she didn't think it was something she was supposed to see. And in this house that didn’t feel like home that feeling only got worse.

When Annie woke up the next morning, it was back quiet as if nothing had ever happened. She blinked up at the ceiling as she laid there, listening for any sounds. Annie frowned thinking she dreamed up everything that happened last night.

Her stomach growled and brought her out of it. She got out of bed, walked over to the door, and opened it slowly. She peeked out into the hallway.

Soft morning light was coming through the windows.

Annie stepped out, closing her door gently behind her then made her way down the hall and to the stairs. Each step down creaked gently under her weight.

When she reached the bottom step and walked to the kitchen, she saw people. It wasn't nearly as many as there were last night. Women were scattered around the kitchen and living room area talking lowly to each other. They were dressed in loose clothing, with shorts on and the shirt straps slipping down their shoulders. There was so much skin showing, it made Annie instinctively look away, unsure where her eyes were supposed to go.

One woman had a cigarette between her fingers, smoke curling up as she laughed at something someone said.

Annie stayed right there at the edge of the room, her hands coming together in front of her. her chest felt tight and she had the instant realization that she didn't want to be there. She wanted to go home.

One of the women noticed her first. The woman's eyes widened slightly when she looked over.

“Who kid is that?” she asked.

Every head turned and eyes landed on Annie.

The woman with the cigarette quickly pulled it from her lips and put it out against a nearby ashtray. Another woman adjusted her shirt.

Annie didn’t move. She just stood there, feeling all those eyes on her, her fingers pressing tighter together.

Before anyone else could say anything Mariah appeared in the kitchen doorway. She was fully dressed and her hair done. She looked put together in a way that had Annie confused when she looked at the other women.

“That’s my daughter,” she said simply.

A few of the women exchanged confused looks, but nobody questioned it. They just accepted it without really fully understanding.

Mariah didn’t say anything else about it. She simply moved into the kitchen like everything was completely normal. She grabbed a pan, set it on the stove, and started pulling things out to cook breakfast.

“Sit down,” she said to Annie without even looking at her.

Annie walked slowly to one of the chairs at the table and climbed up into it, her legs swinging above the floor. Her eyes stayed on Mariah, watching her move around.

The skillet sizzled loud, the smell of grease and seasoning filling the room. Plates were already set out, utensils clinking softly as she worked. Annie's eyes followed Mariah’s hands and the way she scooped food onto plates.

The front door opened and heavy footsteps sounded throughout the house.

Annie’s head turned quickly as her "father" walked in the room. He didn't even glance at Annie.

“The food is ready,” Mariah said while looking at him.

He grunted in response, sitting at the table right across from Annie.

Mariah fixed a plate for him first and set it down in front of him without a word.

The other women started moving as if that was their signal. They fixed their own plates and spread out around the kitchen to eat.

Annie sat there, watching all of it as her stomach growled. She pressed her lips together as she looked at the food being passed around. Nobody said anything to her or offered her anything. So she waited hoping maybe someone would notice. But they didn't.

After a while, Annie slowly slid out of her chair and stepped toward the counter. Her small hands lifted up like she was about to reach for a plate, but a hand grabbed her arm hard. Annie flinched instantly, a small sound catching in her throat as she looked up.

It was her “father.” His grip was tight around her upper arm, fingers pressing hard enough to make her stop.

“We ain’t got enough food for you,” he said dismissively.

Annie blinked up at him, her brows pulled together slightly.

“But—” her voice came out small.

He tightened his grip just a little more.

“I said we ain’t got enough.”

He said it in a way that she knew not to question.

Her lip trembled as she nodded. A soft whimper slipped out before she could stop it.

He let go of her arm just as quick as he grabbed it, turning back to his plate like she wasn’t important enough to think about any longer.

Annie gently rubbed her arm where he had held her, her eyes dropping to the floor. She turned and walked out of the kitchen. Her steps were soft as she made her way into the living room. She climbed onto the edge of the couch and sat there with her legs pulled up and stomch twisting.

For the rest of the day, Annie sat in that living room going from one spot to another. She went from the couch to the floor or to just standing by the window staring out at the street.

The women moved through the house constantly. Some women stopped by to speak with her, some even snuck her pieces of candy they had. None of them were mean to her, but they weren't much of anything else either.

As the day went on, the feeling of being alone took over more of her.

Her grandmother would’ve asked if she ate and would've made her go outside, or read a book, or clean something. Her grandmother would've noticed how unsettled she was. Annie was more homesick than she had ever been in her life.

By the time night came, Annie was so jumbled up she didn't know what to do.

They all were gathered in the dining room, Annie included. She was seated at the far end of the table with a small scratch of paper and a pencil that someone had left there. She was pretending to draw, but was really listening to what was going on.

The women sat around the table with tense postures. At the head of the table sat Annie's "father". Mariah was perched on the arm of his chair, one leg crossed over the other. His arm wrapped naturally around her waist.

Annie kept her head down, her pencil moving slowly across the paper. She was doing anything to keep her eyes busy.

“Tonight gone be a good night,” he said, his voice cutting through the room. “Y’all hear me?”

A few murmured yeses followed.

“Good. Cause we need it to be. Ain’t nobody slackin’ tonight. I want every dollar comin’ in.”

The women nodded again.

“And some of y’all still owe,” he continued, his eyes dragging across the table, landing on certain faces longer than others.

A couple of the women shifted uncomfortably. One looked down at her hands and another swallowed hard.

“So that mean you do what I say when I say it and how I say it,” he went on. “It don’t matter if you tired. It don’t matter if you don’t feel like it. And it damn sure don’t matter if you don’t want to.”

A few of the women stiffened at his words.

Annie's pencil slowed down as she listened and digested the words the man said. Her "father" spoke the words like they were something important to hold on to, and Annie kept that in mind.

“Cause at the end of the day you got a job to do and you gone do it,” he said, leaning back. His fingers lightly tapped against Mariah's side.

One of the women finally spoke up, trying to be as careful and soft as she could.

“What about the girl?”

A few eyes subtly flicked toward Annie.

The chair scraped loudly against the floor and Annie’s head snapped up just in time to see his hand swing. The sound of a loud smack cracked through the room suddenly. The woman's head jerked to the side, her body going in shock from the force of it.

Annie froze and her eyes went wide. Her pencil slipped from her fingers and rolled across the table.

He stood over the woman before turning his attention toward Annie. He slowly walked over to her, each of his steps were heavy.

Annie didn’t move. She couldn't really. Her body felt stuck like she forgot how to move.

His hand came out, gripping her chin, forcing her face up toward him. His eyes were cold as he looked down at her.

“I don’t care about her,” he said, like she wasn’t even there. “She ain’t my responsibility.”

Annie’s eyes stung instantly, but she didn't cry. She just looked at him.

His grip tightened just slightly before he let go, her head dropping back down.

“Y’all got work to do,” he continued, turning back toward the table.

Annie's hands shook slightly as she gathered her paper and pencil. She slowly slid off the chair, trying to be as invisible as possible. Her throat felt thick, like something was stopping her from screaming out. She slipped out the room as quietly as possible and practically raced up the stairs.

As soon as she got back into "her" room she closed the door behind her, really needing that barrier between her and them. She climbed onto the bed, pulled her knees up to her chest, wrapped her arms tightly around them, and pressed her face into her arms. Her heart was racing and all she could think about was how she wasn't supposed to be there.

That night, sleep didn’t come easy for Annie. She sat up in that bed for what felt like hours, her back against the headboard, her knees pulled close, just staring and listening.

The house had come alive again, but it was louder than the night before. The music was loud, but the voices were louder. Every now and then, something would hit the wall and it made her jump every time.

Her stomach growled like it had done all day. It was aching in a way that made it hard to think about anything else for too long. She looked over at the small stash of candy she had left. Her grandmother always said not to spoil your dinner, but there was no dinner here. So she ate it all.

By the time she finished, her stomach didn’t growl as loud anymore, but it didn’t feel right either. The candy was too sweet for her empty stomach.

She laid back for a moment, staring up at the ceiling, trying to will herself to sleep. But every time she drifted just a little the noise in the house woke her up again. She couldn’t sleep like this.

Her grandmother would to give her warm milk sometimes to help her sleep good through the night. So maybe that would work.

Annie pushed herself up, her feet touching the floor. The wood was cool under her toes. She listened to the voices everywhere and the too loud music, but she told herself everything was fine. She just needed to go to the kitchen, get some milk, and come right back. That's all.

She walked toward the door carefully, her hand reaching for the knob. Just as her fingers wrapped around it, a thud sounded out like something hit the wall. It was right outside her room.

Annie's heart started to beat a little faster.

Another noise that sounded like a struggle came. Feet were scuffling around and a muffled voice said something she couldn't quite make out.

She slowly turned the knob anyway and pulled the door open just a crack. Then a little more. And she saw them right there in the hallway.

It was one of the women pushing against a man as he grabbed at her. He was pulling at her clothes, his hands rough and impatient.

“Stop—” the woman’s voice broke, breathless, strained as she tried to twist away from him.

He didn’t listen or slow down. He shoved her back hard, her body hitting the wall before she stumbled and fell to the floor. He yanked at the woman’s clothes, fabric tearing, slipping, and falling away.

The woman tried to push him off, but he was stronger.

Annie couldn’t look away. Her body felt locked in place.

The man pushed the woman fully onto the floor. Her back hit the wood hard. He fumbled with his belt, trying to get it unbuckled.

The woman looked right at Annie. Their eyes met and it was like everything else in the home melted away from that look. Tears filled the woman's eyes. And there was a certain look in them that Annie couldn't quite recognize.

Annie’s stomach twisted. A weird, sick feeling spread through her body. She was confused and scared. Her throat burned as she struggled to breathe normally.

She couldn’t stay there and watch that. She didn't quite understand what was happening, but she knew it was wrong.

Annie stepped back quickly, her hand slipping from the door as she turned and ran down the hall. Her small feet moved fast against the floor as she tried to get away from what she just saw.

The closer she got to the stairs, the louder everything became. The air was thick and suffocating, making it hard for her to breathe. But she kept going because she needed to get away from it all.

When she stepped off the last stair and into the main part of the house, she stopped. Her feet planted where they were and her eyes were wide. This wasn’t anything like the night before. Not even close.

People were everywhere. Bodies pressed together in ways Annie didn’t understand but knew she wasn’t supposed to be seeing. Men and women were touching each other's bodies openly.

Some of them still had clothes on, but some of them didn't. And nobody seemed to care about her presence.

Annie’s head turned quickly, trying to look somewhere else. But there was nowhere to look, everydirection was covered, showing her all the things she shouldn't be seeing at her age.

A woman stumbled past her, her hair messy, her face wet with tears. She was saying something, probably begging, but Annie couldn’t hear the words over the music. A man followed close behind her, grabbing her arm too tight, jerking her back when she tried to pull away.

Annie flinched.

Across the room, another woman was pressed against the wall, shaking her head, her hands pushing weakly at the man in front of her.

“No—please—” she cried, her voice breaking.

He didn’t stop or even slow down. His hand came up, striking her hard enough to make Annie’s stomach drop.

Someone laughed, but nothing about this was funny.

She turned, trying to remember the way to the kitchen, but it was way harder now. There were too many people in the way.

She pushed forward, keeping her head low, trying not to look too hard at anything, but things caught her attention anyway.

A man, right there in the open, pulling at a woman, forcing her down against a surface, his movements rough, impatient. The woman cried out, her hands pushing at him, trying to get him off.

“Stop—please—stop—”

Her voice cracked, panicked. Yet he didn't stop. His hand moved to her throat, squeezing hard enough to silence her and hold her still.

Annie’s whole body went cold. She squeezed her eyes shut tight to block it all out and pretend she didn't see it.

Her stomach twisted violently, that sick feeling rushing through her again, stronger than before. Like her body didn’t know what to do with what she had just seen and it was rejecting it.

She shook her head slightly, her hands coming up to cover her ears as best as she could, trying to block out the sounds. All she wanted to think about was getting to the kitchen and getting her milk. So she moved almost blindly.

She felt her way through the space, her steps shaky, bumping into things and people as she passed. Some people were annoyed at her clusmy movements, but she was scared to open her eyes and what she might see if she did. She already saw far too much.

After what felt like forever, she finally made it to the kitchen. It was quieter in there which was exactly what she needed.

Annie stumbled in, breathing a little too fast, her little chest tight like she had been running for miles. But she went straight to the cabinet. She dragged one of the chairs across the floor, the legs scraping loudly. The sound made her wince, her shoulders jumping slightly like she thought someone would come in and yell at her.

She climbed up. Her small hands reaching up, fingers stretching until she grabbed a cup from the shelf. She almost dropped it from her shaky hands. She got down, moving quickly to the fridge, pulling it open.

The cold air was a welcome change to her skin.

She grabbed the glass of milk. It was heavy in her little hands, but she manage to set it on the counter with a soft thud. She carefully climbed back up on the chair.

She poured, trying to be careful to not spill anything. The milk sloshed against the sides of the cup and her lip caught between her teeth in concentration.

When it was full enough, she set the glass down and picked the cup up with both hands. She drank it in big gulps like it would fix everything. The milk was too cold that it hit her stomach wrong, mixing with all that candy. Her face twisted slightly as she swallowed, forcing herself to keep drinking anyway.

Because it was supposed to help. It always helped at home.

She lowered the cup slowly, her stomach churning now, that sick feeling right there at the front. She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, trying to steady herself.

Annie froze as she heard movement behind her.

Her "father" walked in first. Mariah right behind him. The second his eyes landed on Annie, his face showed instant annoyance.

“What she doin’ in here?” he snapped.

Annie flinched hard. Her grip tightening on the cup.

He looked at Mariah, irritation clear all over his face.

“Why you let her come down here?” he went on. “I told you I ain’t tryna take care of no kid.”

Annie’s stomach tightened. Her eyes dropped to the cup in her hands.

Mariah didn’t react the way Annie thought she would. She didn't get defensive or argue. She just smiled so sweetly. She stepped closer, reaching out and grabbing Annie’s face, her fingers pressing into her cheeks, turning her head side to side like she was looking her over.

Annie stiffened under her touch, her body going rigid.

“You ain’t even curious?” Mariah said lightly, almost playful. “Don’t you wanna see what she look like?”

He barely glanced at her.

“I seen enough,” he muttered.

Annie’s throat burned. Her eyes filled, tears slipping over before she could stop them.

He crossed his arms.

“So what we doin’ with her?” he asked. “We can take her back?”

Annie’s heart jumped in hope. Her head lifted just a little.

Mariah hummed softly, like she was thinking about it. Her fingers still holding Annie’s face.

“I don’t know. I think I might wanna keep her,” she said slowly.

Annie’s stomach dropped.

He sucked his teeth, clearly irritated.

“That’s another mouth to feed,” he said flatly.

Mariah shrugged lightly, unconcerned.

“She a child,” she replied. “Kids don’t eat as much as grown folks. Won't have to feed her as often.”

He shook his head, over the conversation.

“Man, whatever. Just take her somewhere,” he said, waving his hand like Annie was nothing more than something in the way.

Mariah’s hands slid from Annie’s face down to her shoulders.

“Come on,” she said smiling.

But Annie couldn’t move properly. Her whole body was shaking now. Tears fell freely down her cheeks. Her chest was rising and falling too fast. Her stomach churned, the milk sitting wrong. Everything inside of her felt twisted and tight.

“I wanna go home…” she cried softly, her voice breaking, small hands clutching at her dress.

Mariah’s smile faltered just slightly, before it came right back.

“Stop all that crying. You alright,” she said, her tone sharp.

But Annie didn’t feel alright.

Her legs felt weak. Her head felt light. And her body trembled as she stood there.

Mariah kept her grip on Annie’s shoulders as they moved out of the kitchen.

Annie’s feet dragged a little. The sounds from the rest of the house swallowed them up as soon the moment they stepped out and started for the stairs.

Annie kept her head down, tears still slipping down her face, her hands clenched into the fabric of her dress. She didn’t want to go back upstairs. She didn’t want to be anywhere in this house.

And just as they were about to climb the stairs, the front door shook from loud bangs on it. It was hard enough to rattle the walls. People stopped and looked at it. Another strong desperate hit to the door came.

Mariah’s grip tightened slightly on Annie before she let go, stepping toward the door. She pulled it open cautiously.

William Richard stood at the front, shoulders squared, jaw tight, and a gun firm in his hand. Right behind him was Marcus Richard, eyes scanning the room, anger written all over his face. And Ray Richard just behind them, tense and ready, his focus sharp and locked in.

The second Annie saw them she sprung into action.

“UNCLE WILLY!” she screamed, her voice cracking as she started crying harder, louder than she had all night.

Her whole body moved before her mind could catch up. Her feet pushed forward, desperate to get to them and get home.

“I don’t wanna stay here!” she cried, her voice shaking, panicked. Her words tumbled over each other.

Mariah’s hand shot out, grabbing the back of Annie’s dress, stopping her in her place. Annie stumbled, choking on a sob as she tried to pull forward anyway, her hands reaching out.

William stepped forward just slightly, lifting his gun to make the message clear.

“You better let her go,” he said, his voice low and dangerous.

Marcus didn’t say anything, but the look on his face said enough. Ray’s eyes were already locked on Annie, panic creeping in under the anger.

Mariah hesitated. Her grip still tight in Annie’s dress. Then she let go.

Annie didn’t wait. She ran straight to them.

Ray caught her instantly, dropping down slightly to meet her. He wrapped her up tight as she clung to him, her small body shaking uncontrollably.

“I got you baby,” he said quickly, his voice softer now, urgent. "You okay?"

But she couldn’t answer. She was crying too hard. Her face buried into him, her fingers gripping onto his shirt.

Marcus stepped closer, his hand hovering over her back like he didn’t know where to touch. William kept his eyes up, watching everything else, making sure nobody moved.

“Let’s go,” he said shortly.

The door shut behind them.

The outside air hit Annie’s face, but it didn’t settle her. They moved her carefully down the steps.

“Annie—Annie, look at me,” Ray tried, pulling back just enough to see her face.

But she was still crying, her breaths coming too fast, uneven.

“What happened?” Marcus asked, his voice tight. “What you see?”

Before Annie could even try to answer, her body jerked. A gag caught in her throat.

“Wait—” Ray started, but it was too late.

She turned her head and threw up into the grass. What little she had in her stomach, came up fast. hER SMALL BODY TREMBLED FROM THE FORCE.

“Easy—” Ray murmured, holding her steady as she coughed, trying to catch her breath.

“Jesus…” Marcus muttered under his breath, running a hand over his face.

The car door slammed open and Clarisse Richard rushed out. Her face was full of worry the second she saw Annie.

“Oh my baby—” she said, hurrying over, immediately reaching for her to check anywhere she could.

“She sick,” William said shortly. “We gotta go.”

Clarisse nodded quickly, moving to help, her hands gentle but firm as she helped lift Annie up.

Annie barely had the strength to hold herself up now. Her body felt weak and her head was spinning.

They carried her to the car trying not to move her around too much.

Ray slid in with her, keeping her close, one arm wrapped around her as she leaned into him, sniffling and shaking. Clarisse climbed in on the other side, rubbing Annie’s head.

The kitchen was quiet except for the soft snap of beans.

Mama Nette lifted her eyes to Elijah, studying him.

“You see,” she said after a moment, her voice calm, “that girl saw far too much for somebody her age. Things she ain’t had no business seeing and understanding. She learned real early what men could be. What they do when they think they got power over you. What they take when you don’t give it.”

She continued snapping the beans in her hands.

“And that’ll make a girl real careful,” she said. “Make her watchful and question everything. But she did grow up and learn that all men ain't like that. That there's some good ones. But even then something always got to come along and test your belief."

The sun sat high in the sky, bright and warm, reflecting off the water like little sparks of light. The lake stretched out calm and pretty, the air filled with laughter and splashing. It should’ve been a good day. And for a while it was.

Annie stood off to the side with her friend, both of them giggling, talking, watching the boys show off by the water. Everything felt easy.

Her boyfriend came up behind her, slipping an arm around her waist.

She smiled, leaning into him just a little.

“Come here,” he murmured, pulling her away from the others.

She didn’t think much of it.

He turned her toward him, pressing her lightly back against one of the trees.

She laughed softly.

“What you doin’?” she asked, her voice playful.

He didn’t answer. Just leaned in and kissed her.

At first it was a soft, familiar kiss. Annie kissed him back, her hands resting lightly against his chest. Then his hands moved lower and more insistent. He tried to slide them under the hem of her dress.

Annie pulled back just slightly.

“Wait—,” she said, her voice light, but firm.

He didn’t stop. His hand tried again.

She caught his wrist this time.

“No,” she said very clearly now.

He sighed, like she was being difficult.

“C’mon,” he muttered, leaning back in, trying to kiss her again.

She turned her face away. “I said no.”

That should’ve been enough. It wasn’t.

His grip tightened slightly, his hand moved again, this time trying to guide hers instead. he pulled her hand down until it sat on the top of the seat of his pants, so she could feel the bulge there.

Annie frowned, pulling back. “No, stop—”

But he didn’t stop.

His voice dropped, a little more impatient now.

“You don’t mean that,” he said. “You just playin’.”

Annie’s stomach tightened, uneasily. Her mind traveling back in time to a seven year old Annie.

“I’m not playing,” she said, pushing at his chest now. “I said no.”

He didn’t like that and she could see it in his face.

He moved closer again, crowding her space, ignoring the way she was trying to put distance between them.

“I’ll make you feel good,” he said, like that was supposed to fix everything.

Her heart started to beat faster.

“Stop,” she said again, more urgent now, pushing harder against him.

He wasn’t listening at all.

Annie’s back pressed harder against the tree, her hands braced against him as she tried to create space. Her breathing picked up.

“Stop—” she said again, her voice rising slightly, panic starting to slip in.

But he kept pushing forward like her words didn’t matter.

Her hands pushed harder.

“Get off me!” she said, louder now, her voice shaking.

He barely reacted.

“You don’t mean that,” he muttered, trying to catch her lips again, one hand still trying to force hers down, the other gripping at her waist too tight. “You just scared, that’s all. I got you.”

“I said no!” she snapped, her voice breaking as she turned her face away, pushing harder against him, her nails pressing into his shirt.

But he kept going. And that feeling—the same one from when she was little, from that house, from those nights she didn’t understand but felt anyway—it rose up fast and ugly in her chest.

That’s when she heard a car door slam open in the midst of her "No".

“Aye!”

The shout stopped everything.

“She said no. Back the fuck up.”

Annie’s head snapped to the side, her eyes wide.

At the top of the small slope, her cousin stood beside the car. A couple of his friends were right behind him, spreading out as they came down.

Her boyfriend froze completely caught off guard.

That was all Annie needed. She shoved him hard. This time he stumbled back just enough for her to slip out from between him and the tree. Her chest was heaving, her eyes glossy with tears as she stood there, shaken.

“Annie, get in the car,” her cousin called, his voice firm but not harsh.

She looked between him and the boy in front of her.

Her boyfriend was trying to recover, running a hand over his shirt like nothing had happened.

“She good,” he started. “We was just—”

“Man, shut the hell up,” her cousin cut in, stepping closer.

Annie’s stomach twisted.

“It's okay—” she started, her voice small and shaky.

“It ain’t okay,” he snapped, not even looking at her this time, his eyes locked on the boy.

Annie swallowed hard, tears slipping down her cheeks now.

“It’s not like that. He didn't—” she tried again, wiping at her face quickly.

“Annie,” her cousin said, firmer this time, finally looking at her, “get in the car.”

There was no arguing in his tone.

Her chest tightened, but she nodded. She turned and walked toward the car, her legs feeling unsteady, her hands still trembling.

Behind her, she could feel the tension building.

She didn’t want to turn around and see it. But she did as soon as she reached the car door.

Her cousin’s friend stepped forward first, shoving her boyfriend back hard.

“What you think you was doing?” he demanded.

The boy pushed back immediately, defensive now. “Man, y’all doing too much—”

The first hit landed before he could catch it. A fist to the jaw that snapped his head to the side. Then another. And another. It all happened so fast.

Annie gasped, her hand flying to her mouth as she watched them swarm him, pushing him back, fists flying, anger pouring out of them with every hit.

“Stop!” she cried, her voice breaking. “Stop it!”

Her cousin stepped in too, grabbing the boy by his shirt and landing a punch that sent him stumbling to the ground.

“You don’t hear a woman say no?” he snapped.

The boy tried to get up, but they didn’t give him the chance. The kicked and punched him relentlessly.

Annie’s vision blurred with tears as she shook her head, panicking now.

“Please, stop!” she cried, her hands gripping the car door. “Y’all gonna hurt him!”

Her cousin finally looked back at her. He saw her crying and how shaken she was. He exhaled sharply, holding his hand up.

“Aight,” he said, pulling his friends back.

They walked away, leaving the boy on the ground, barely moving.

Breathing hard, her cousin ran a hand over his face before pointing toward the car again.

“Get in,” he said, softer this time.

Annie didn’t argue. She climbed into the car quickly, her body still trembling, her chest tight as she wiped at her face over and over again.

The door shut behind her.

Her mind was spinning from the feeling that kept coming back.

And if nobody had come—

She didn’t even want to finish that thought.

The soft snap of beans breaking between Mama Nette’s fingers filled the space, steady and unbothered. Sunlight came through the window, casting a warm glow over the table, over the bowl of peas, over her hands as she worked without looking up for a moment.

Elijah sat there across from her, his own hands slower now. The peas in front of him blurred slightly as his mind tried to settle around everything she had said. He could still see it, clear as day, even though he hadn’t lived it. A little girl, scared and hungry, trapped in a place she never should have been. It made his chest tighten in a way he didn’t know how to name.

Mama Nette finally paused, lifting her head to look at him. Her eyes were sharp but not unkind, like she was just waiting to see if he would prove her right.

“You see now,” she said, her voice calm but firm, “Annie ain’t gon’ know what to do when it come to her emotions.”

Elijah looked up at her, listening close.

“She done had good men in her life,” she continued, snapping another bean between her fingers, “Men that love her, take care of her, show her what it’s supposed to be. But she done seen some of the worst too. And them worst ones leave a mark, whether you want ‘em to or not.”

Elijah swallowed, his hands stilling for a second before he forced himself to keep working.

Mama Nette watched him carefully. “I can see what kind of man you are, Elijah. But she need to see it too,” she said.

He let out a slow breath, his eyes dropping back to the peas as he thought about Annie. The way she smiled, the way she pulled away just as quick. The way she said one thing but felt something else entirely. It made more sense now, but it didn’t make it easier.

“She a handful,” Mama Nette went on, a faint hint of amusement touching her voice, “but she get it honest. That girl been strong since she was little.”

Mama Nette leaned back just a bit, resting her hands for a moment before continuing.

“Now, yes, I did some work so Annie would find somebody that would be good for her. Somebody that would show her how to live right, not just survive,” she said plainly.

“I just…” he started, his voice quieter now, more uncertain than before. “I don’t know what to do. Every time I try, she run. Or she twist what I say into something else. I don’t wanna keep pushing her away.”

Mama Nette clicked her tongue softly, shaking her head just a little. “That’s ‘cause you ain’t being plain,” she said. “You talking around things instead of saying exactly what you mean. You gotta say it simple and straight. Annie don’t need confusion, she got enough of that in her own head. You leave space, she gon’ fill it with whatever she scared of.”

That sat with him.

“You let her dance around you, she gon’ keep dancing,” Mama Nette added, her eyes narrowing slightly. “That girl do what she wanna do. So you gotta make her do what you know is best for her.”

Elijah looked up at that, a bit unsure. “Make her?”

“Be stern,” she clarified. “Not mean or rough, but stand in what you saying. Otherwise she gon’ run circles around you and then cry about it after. She think she can get away with anything with you. And right now, she ain’t wrong.”

They fell into a brief silence after that, the only sound being the continued snapping of beans. This time, Elijah kept going without stopping, his mind working through everything she had said.

After a while, Mama Nette glanced up at him again, eyebrows lifting slightly. “What you still doing here?” she asked, almost like she had forgotten he was still sitting there. “Go on and see about that girl.”

“Yes ma’am,” he said.

He headed upstairs, his steps heavier than before but more certain. When he reached Annie’s room, he paused for just a second before stepping inside. The flowers he had brought sat where he left them, untouched.

He picked them up carefully, his eyes lingering for a second as he looked around again. Then he turned and headed back downstairs. As he moved toward the door, he heard Mama Nette’s voice from behind him.

“Hey. Be easy on my baby, hear?” she said. “She learning.”

Elijah nodded once, firm.

“Yes ma’am.”

And with that, he stepped out of the house, closing the door behind him as he went.

Elijah sat in the car for a second after he pulled up to the school. The engine was still running, his hands resting on the steering wheel while the flowers sat in his lap.

The schoolyard was alive in front of him. Children ran across the playground, their laughter carrying through the air. Teachers stood off to the side in the shaded area near the fence, watching.

Elijah let out a quiet breath, reaching down to grab the flowers before stepping out of the car. He shut the door behind him and stood there for a moment, scanning the yard, his eyes moving from group to group, searching.

He didn’t see her at first so he started walking toward the fence. His gaze moved until it finally landed on her.

She was sitting on a bench in the shaded area, her posture relaxed. Her head turned toward Lillian as they talked. From where he stood, he couldn’t hear what they were saying, but he could see the small movements.

For a second, he just watched her. Taking her in, trying to make sure she was okay. Then he stepped closer to the fence.

“Annie,” he called, his voice carrying just enough to reach her.

She didn’t even turn her head. It was as if she hadn’t heard him at all. But he knew she did.

Lillian looked up immediately though, her eyes landing on him. Her expression shifted in recognition, and she gave him a small wave before nudging Annie lightly with her elbow.

Annie barely reacted. She kept her gaze forward, her face set, like she was determined not to acknowledge him.

Elijah exhaled slowly, tightening his grip just slightly on the flowers.

“Annie,” he called again, a little firmer this time.

Before she could ignore him again, a little girl came running up to her, breathless and excited about something. Annie turned to her instantly, her voice soft as she answered whatever question the girl had, giving her full attention like nothing else mattered.

Elijah watched that.

The little girl lingered though, her curiosity getting the better of her. She glanced past Annie, her small finger lifting to point toward the fence.

“Miss Annie,” she said, her voice loud enough to for him to hear, “I think that man is askin’ for you.”

Annie closed her eyes for the briefest second before opening them again, her patience still intact.

“Thank you, baby,” she said gently.

But the girl didn’t move. She just stood there, looking between Annie and Elijah, her curiosity written all over her face.

“I think you should go over there,” she added, like she was helping.

Annie let out a quiet breath through her nose, forcing a small, tight smile.

“Go on and play,” she told her softly.

The girl nodded and finally ran off.

Elijah called her name again, not raising his voice.

This time, Lillian didn’t hold back.

“Girl,” she said under her breath, nudging Annie again, “go talk to that man.”

Annie huffed quietly, her jaw tightening just a little before she pushed herself up from the bench. She smoothed her dress absentmindedly, then started walking toward the fence. Each step felt like she was bracing herself.

When she finally got close enough, she stopped just on the other side of the fence, keeping a small distance between them. Her arms crossed lightly over her chest, her expression guarded as she looked anywhere but directly at him.

“What?” she said, her tone flat.

Elijah lifted the flowers toward her, the bright petals a soft contrast to the tension sitting heavy between them.

“I brought you these,” he said quietly.

Annie didn’t move to take them. Her eyes flicked down to the bouquet before she looked away again.

A small pause stretched between them before Elijah let his arm lower just a little, the flowers still in his hand.

“How you be?” he asked, trying again.

Annie sighed, already sounding tired of the conversation. “I’m fine,” she said shortly. “That’s all you need to know.”

Elijah’s jaw shifted, his eyes narrowing just slightly as he studied her face, trying to find something real under what she was giving him.

“Why you being like this with me?” he asked.

That made her look at him.

Her brows pulled together, confusion mixing with irritation. “I’m not being any way,” she said. “I’m acting normal.”

He scoffed under his breath, turning his head for a second before looking back at her. “That ain’t normal, Annie. You been running from me.”

She rolled her eyes slightly, but didn’t interrupt him.

“And I need to know why,” he continued, his voice steady but firm. “So I can fix it.”

“You don’t have to fix nothing. You don’t have to know anything about me,” she snapped.

“I do,” he said without hesitation. “You been shutting me out. Soon as something get too real, you pull away.”

Annie huffed, shifting her weight from one foot to the other. “You not innocent in this either,” she muttered. “You ain’t all the way right.”

Elijah nodded once,. “Maybe I’m not,” he admitted. “Maybe I don’t say everything I should. Maybe I don’t say it the right way all the time. But I’m trying. And I believe in this. In us.”

Annie’s eyes flickered, but she didn’t say anything.

“I wanna be there for you, but you gotta let me,” he said, softer now, but no less firm.

Her gaze dropped to the ground for a second before she shook her head faintly.

“And You gotta stop running 'cause I’m not gonna push you into nothing you ain’t ready for. I told you that,” he added.

She stayed quiet.

“I’m a patient man, Bunny,” he said. “I waited this long just to take you out. I’ll wait however long it take to really be with you. You stuck with me, 'cause I don’t want nobody else.”

Annie finally looked up at him, her expression not as sharp as before, but still guarded.

“How would I know that?” she asked quietly. “That you wouldn’t be like that?”

Elijah held her gaze, not rushing to answer.

“Your grandma told me everything,” he said after a moment.

Annie’s face shifted instantly, her eyes narrowing just slightly. “She told you what?”

“Enough for me to understand you better,” he said simply.

She looked away again, clearly not knowing how to feel about that.

“I’m not like that, Annie,” he went on. “And you should know that already. I been right here this whole time, waiting on you to see me as more than justsomebody to pass time with.”

Her fingers tightened slightly against her arms. Annie glanced around, like she needed something to ground her, before her eyes came back to him.

“I just…” she started, then stopped, shaking her head lightly. “I don’t know what you want from me.”

Elijah let out a slow breath as he tried to keep his frustration from rising to the surface. It was there, sitting just beneath his calm, but he didn’t let it spill over. He adjusted his grip on the flowers, then really looked at her, like he was done dancing around what he meant.

“I’ma be honest with you,” he said firmly. “I want it all with you. I ain’t talking about just going out, or passing time, or seeing where it go. I mean everything.”

Her breath slowed, like she was bracing herself for what he was about to say.

“I wanna marry you,” he said plainly. “I wanna build you a house that's ours. And I wanna fill it up with all them babies you said you wanted.”

“I said three,” she murmured.

Elijah huffed a quiet breath, a small smile finally breaking through. “Alright,” he said. “Three then.”

Something about that softened her more than anything else.

“I want a life with you, Annie. I wanna be with you in every way there is to be with somebody. You make me feel…” he paused, searching for the right words before shaking his head slightly. “You make me feel something I ain’t never felt before. Not with nobody.”

A visible shiver ran through her, her shoulders pulling in just slightly like she couldn’t help it.

“And I’d do anything for you,” he finished, the words simple but heavy with meaning.

The sounds of the playground faded into the background for Annie, like everything had narrowed down to just him standing there in front of her.

Her eyes dropped for a second, her throat tightening as she tried to gather herself. Then she looked back up at him.

“I’m sorry,” she said quietly. “I get all mixed up when it come to this. I don’t know what I’m doing half the time, and then I get upset that I don’t know…and I just—” she let out a small breath, shaking her head, “I take it out on everybody. And that ain’t fair to you.”

Elijah’s expression softened.

“I wanna be with you too. I do,” she said, the words coming out more certain this time. “I’m sorry for how I been actin'. I’m gonna try to do better.”

Elijah nodded slowly, stepping just a little closer to the fence, the tension between them finally easing.

“Come here,” he said softly.

Annie hesitated for half a second before stepping closer too, right up to the edge of the fence between them.

He reached through just enough to tilt her chin up gently, giving her time to pull away if she wanted to. She didn’t.

Their lips met softly at first, like they were both making sure this was okay. Then it deepened just slightly, not rushed, just sure. From behind Annie, a chorus of little voices broke out almost instantly.

“Ooooohhh!”

“Miss Annie kissing a boy!”

“Ewwww!”

Annie jumped back just a little, her eyes going wide as heat rushed straight to her face. She turned around quickly, pointing toward the playground with a flustered wave of her hand.

“Y’all better go on and play!” she snapped, trying to sound stern, but her embarrassment made it wobble.

The kids just giggled, scattering but still looking back.

Elijah couldn’t help the small smile that pulled at his face as he watched her.

She turned back to him, flushed and trying to regain some composure.

He held her gaze softly.

“I’ll see you after work,” he said.

Annie nodded, her lips pressing together as she tried not to smile too hard.

“Okay,” she said quietly.

He gave her one last look before stepping back from the fence, the flowers still in his hand as he finally turned to head back toward his car.

This time, when Annie looked at him walking away, she didn’t feel like running.

The rest of the day dragged and flew by all at once for her.

She felt lighter than she had been feeling for weeks. Even the way she smiled felt easier, like she wasn’t forcing it anymore.

The children noticed immediately.

“Miss Annie,” one of the girls said, leaning over her desk with a grin that was far too knowing for her age, “ was that your boyfriend?”

Annie quickly turned back to the chalkboard like she hadn’t heard a thing.

“Alright now, open your books,” she said, tapping the board lightly. “We not talking about nothing but this lesson.”

Still, every now and then, a comment would slip out. A look or a whisper. Annie dodged every single one, refusing to give them anything, but the small smile that kept tugging at her lips gave her away anyway.

By the time the final bell rang, she was more than ready to leave. She gathered her things quickly, barely lingering the way she normally might. A couple of teachers tried to catch her for conversation, but she kept it short.

She slid into her car and started the engine. Her hands shifted on the wheel, and she turned the car in the direction of Elijah’s place without a second thought.

Her heart beat just a little faster as she pulled up, smoothing her hands over her dress before stepping out of the car. She walked up to his door and knocked, suddenly aware of the small flutter of nerves building in her chest.

It didn’t take long before the door opened.

Elijah stood there staring at her with a look in his eye that said it all.

“Hey,” he said.

“Hey,” she replied warmly.

He stepped aside without hesitation, letting her in.

Elijah gestured toward the couch, and Annie moved to sit, tucking her legs slightly as she got comfortable. He turned on the television, turning the knob until he found something.

“You hungry?” he asked, glancing over at her.

“A little,” she admitted.

“Alright,” he said, already heading toward the kitchen.

Annie watched him for a moment before turning her attention back to the television. The sounds of Elijah in the kitchen and the low hum of whatever show was on tv, relaxed her. Every now and then, she glanced over at him, watching the way he moved, how easy he looked in his own space.

After a while, he came back with plates in his hands, setting one in front of her before sitting down beside her.

“Thank you,” she said softly.

He nodded once. “Eat.”

They did. Talking here and there, nothing too heavy. Nothing was forced. It just was.

As the evening settled in, Annie’s body slowly started to relax more and more, the weight of the long day catching up with her. Her movements slowed, her voice softer when she spoke, her eyes blinking a little heavier each time.

At some point, without even really thinking about it, she shifted closer and laid her head on his lap.

He looked down at her, but he didn’t move her. He just adjusted slightly so she was comfortable, his hand hovering for a moment before resting lightly against her arm. Within minutes, her breathing evened out and she was asleep.

Elijah watched her for a long moment, taking in the softness of her face, the way she looked when she wasn’t thinking and fighting herself.

Carefully, he reached for the blanket draped over the back of the couch and pulled it over her, making sure she was covered. His hand lingered for a second as he adjusted it. Then he leaned down just slightly and pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead.

“Get some rest, Bunny,” he murmured.

He eased out from under her slowly, making sure not to wake her as he shifted her head onto a pillow. Once she was settled, he stood there for a moment, just looking at her again. Then he turned and walked over to the table. He pulled out a chair, sat down, and reached for a piece of paper and a pen.

He just stared at the blank page. Then he started writing to tell his brother everything.

end notes: sorry for the late update your girl had a time this past weekend

The front door flew open harder than it needed to. Annie stepped inside, her heels hitting the floor sharp and fast, her purse barely hanging onto her shoulder as she pushed the door shut behind her.

Marcus and her grandmother both looked up from where they were sitting.

“What happened?” Marcus asked, halfway up from his seat just off the energy alone.

Annie didn’t even slow down.

“All men are the same,” she snapped, tossing her purse down on the nearest chair without looking. “All of 'em.”

Her grandmother’s eyes narrowed slightly, watching her closely.

Marcus frowned. “What you mean? What happened—”

“They all want the same thing,” Annie kept going, pacing now, her hands moving as she talked. “That’s it. That’s all it ever is. And when you don’t give it to them, suddenly it’s a problem.”

Marcus’s expression hardened instantly. “It's a problem for who? Elijah?”

Annie let out a frustrated sound. “Yes, Elijah. Who else?”

“What he do?” Marcus asked, stepping closer. “Where he at?”

But Annie wasn’t really focused on answering his questions.

She was upset and talking quick. Frustration spilling out faster than she could control.

“I’m not ready for that,” she continued, her voice tight.

Marcus’s jaw clenched. “What he say to you? Where he live at? Do I need to talk to him?”

He was ready to act on whatever version of the story he was building in his head.

“Marcus,” his mother’s voice cut in.

He paused, looking back at her.

“Sit down,” she said firmly.

“He—Ma, you hear what she saying?” Marcus pushed.

“I hear her,” she replied, her eyes still on Annie. “And I hear what she not saying too.”

Marcus frowned. “What that mean?”

“It mean you hush up,” she said simply.

Marcus let out a frustrated breath but didn’t move again.

Annie barely noticed either of them at this point. She was still pacing and talking, her words running together now.

“They just think because they nice to you or say a few sweet things that you supposed to give them whatever they want,” she said, shaking her head. “And I’m not doing that. I’m just not.”

Her grandmother watched her carefully, catching the little things. Annie was speaking vaguely, her voice shifting in tone when she said certain things. There was a lot more there, but she let her talk.

Annie abruptly grabbed her purse and turned toward the stairs.

“I’m done with it,” she muttered, more to herself than them.

“Annie—” Marcus started.

But she was already headed up the stairs. Her steps were heavy and her voice could be heard as she moved down the hall, words muffled but still full of frustration. Then her bedroom door slammed shut.

Annie leaned back against the closed door, her chest rising and falling as everything from anger to confusion to embarrassment caught up to her now that it was quiet.

She pushed off the door and moved toward her bed, sitting down before laying back to stare up at the ceiling. Her mind replayed the good and the bad of the night.

She turned onto her side, pulling the covers over herself even though she wasn’t cold.

But things didn’t end when Annie closed her eyes. All of those feelings just carried over to Sunday morning.

Annie woke up irritated and moved through the house with a heaviness to her steps. Her responses were short and her patience thin.

And her grandmother wasn't with it.

“Fix your face,” she muttered the first time Annie sucked her teeth too loud in the kitchen.

But Annie didn’t.

And at church, it only got worse.

Annie sat stiff in the pew with her arms crossed and her responses were flat and dry when someone tried to greet her.

Her grandmother didn’t even warn her, she just gave her a quick hit to her arm.

Annie huffed under her breath, but a few minutes later she went right back to muttering and rolling her eyes.

After church, they stopped by the grocery store and usually, Annie would be talking and laughing with people they ran into or helping pick things out, but not today.

Today, she walked beside the cart like she didn’t want to be there, answering questions with one-word responses, and barely acknowledging anyone who spoke to her.

“Hey Annie, how you been?”

“I’m good.”

And she kept walking.

Her grandmother side-eyed her more than once but didn’t say anything.

When they got home that afternoon, Annie still hadn’t shaken it. If anything, it had only gotten worse. So when there was a knock on the door that evening, she wasn't in the mood.

Annie got to the door pulling it open just enough to step outside and close it behind her.

Her friends stood there with curious looks on their faces.

“Well?” Monica started immediately. “How was—”

“It wasn’t,” Annie cut in.

Michelle blinked. “What do you mean it wasn’t—”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Annie said, her tone sharp, final. “And I don’t want company right now, so y’all can just go.”

The three of them stared at her completely confused.

“Annie, what is wrong with you?” Lillian asked slowly.

“Nothing's wrong. I just don't want company,” Annie snapped.

Michelle stepped forward slightly. “We just tryin' to check on you—”

“I didn’t ask you to,” Annie shot back.

Now they were looking at her like they didn’t recognize her.

“Okay, now you going a little too far. All we was tryin' to do was check and see how your date with Elijah went,” Monica said, crossing her arms.

“And I said I don’t want to talk about it!” Annie raised her voice, frustration spilling over.

An interesting silence fell between them, because Annie didn’t get like this ever.

“Why you actin' like this?” Michelle asked softly.

Annie shook her head. “Y’all need to just leave me alone.”

Before anything else could be said the front door swung open behind her.

“Annie!” Her grandmother’s voice boomed onto the street.

“Get your ass in this house.”

Annie braced herself as she stepped toward the door. And as she passed by, a hard hit landed against her arm.

Annie flinched, the sting was immediate as she looked back. “Mama—!”

“You know better than this,” her grandmother snapped. “Walking around here with that nasty attitude ‘cause you couldn’t get your coochie squeezed.”

Annie’s face burned in embarrassment instantly.

Her friends looked on in shock before laughing at how ridiculous the older woman could be.

“Get in the house,” her grandmother repeated, not budging.

Annie shot them one last irritated and embarrassed glare, before turning and storming inside.

Her grandmother stepped out just enough to face the girls, her expression softening slightly.

“Y’all come back another time,” she said. “She’ll be alright.”

They nodded, still laughing a little as they started backing away.

“Alright, Ms. Richard. We’ll check on her later!”

She waved them off before closing the door.

When she looked around, she saw that Annie was halfway across the living room.

“Sit down,” her grandmother said.

Annie paused and turned around. “For what?”

Her grandmother gave her a look that said she wasn't playing.

“Sit down, now. And I ain't gone say it again”

Annie let out a quiet, frustrated breath, but she sat. Because she knew she wasn’t getting out of this talk.

When Monday came and Annie still hadn't called, Elijah felt disrupted. He tried to focus on work, but his mind was completely on her.

Things at the shop started slowing down, so Ray let some of them go home a bit earlier. Elijah knew sitting around wasn’t going to fix anything, so he decided to do something about his mind.

Later that afternoon, he stood on Annie’s porch with a small bouquet of flowers in one hand and a folded note in the other. He knocked on the door and waited.

He knew she wouldn’t be there because she was still at the school, but that was the point. He wasn’t ready for another face-to-face like that yet.

After a minute, the door opened and Ms. Annette stood there looking him up and down.

“Well,” she said, stepping back. “Come on in.”

Elijah nodded respectfully then stepped inside. “Yes ma’am.”

She closed the door behind him, turning to face him properly now.

“What you here for?” she asked, arms folding loosely across her chest.

Elijah held the flowers a little tighter. “I came to apologize to Annie.”

Her expression didn’t change much.

“She at work,” she said.

“I know. That's why I wans't gonna stay. I was just gonna leave these for her,” he replied.

Annette watched him for a little longer like she was searching for something. Then she huffed softly, and pointed up the stairs.

“Her room is upstairs. It's the last door on the right,” she said.

Elijah nodded. “Thank you.”

The stairs creaked lightly under his steps as he made his way up. He reached the hallway and walked down it until he reached the right door. He pushed it open gently and stepped inside.

Her room looked soft and put together. There were little things everywhere. Books stacked neatly on a table. A folded blanket at the end of her bed. He noticed the warm colors and the details. There were little things that made him think of conversations they’d had. It all looked exactly how he expected her room to look.

He walked over to the desk, set the flowers down carefully, and placed the note beside them.

Elijah turned and headed back toward the door, careful not to touch anything else on his way out. He pulled the door closed behind him and made his way back downstairs.

He reached the bottom step and headed toward the front door, ready to just slip out.

“Elijah, come help me with these peas.”

He stopped.

Her grandmother’s voice came from deeper in the house.

He turned slightly, following the sound toward the kitchen.

When he stepped in, he saw her seated at the table with a large bowl in the middle. Brown paper bags of green beans were side by side around the bowl. Her hands were moving quickly, snapping and pulling some of the beans without her even looking down.

She pointed to the chair across from her. "Sit."

Elijah did as he was told. He pulled the chair out and sat down, picking up a handful of beans slowly, like he wasn’t fully sure what to do. He watched her for a second before mimicking the way she snapped the ends and pulled the strings down.

The kitchen filled with a quiet rhythm for a while.

“Elijah,” she said, not looking up. “Why are you here?”

He paused slightly, glancing up at her.

“I brought those flowers for Annie to apo—”

“No. Why are you here in Baltimore?” She cut him off.

He frowned a little confused as he tried to follow what she was asking.

“I told you. I came to get help,” he said slowly.

She made a small disapproving sound under her breath. Then looked up at him.

“I ain’t no fool and you ain't gone make me out to be one,” she said plainly. “Cousin Charlie done already told me. So you need to get to talkin',” she added.

He looked at her as he realized this wasn’t going to be just a casual conversation. His hands started moving slowly now like he was trying to control them before they started trembling. He took one deep breath, then another.

“When I was overseas, it was hard to survive” he started quietly. “I had been fighting for so long it felt like that’s all I was doing.”

His eyes dropped to his hands as he worked, the motion steady but slower than before.

“Every night I had these real bad nightmares. I couldn't sleep no matter how tired I was. My mind wouldn't shut off,” he continued.

Annette stayed quiet, giving him space to say his truth.

“I remember one night I went outside,” he said. “Figured if I wore myself out enough, maybe I’d sleep right. But I ain’t make it back in. I just fell asleep out there. And I had this dream.”

He let out a quiet breath.

“It was the best one I ever had," he said. "At first, I ain't know what I was looking at. I just remember she was standing in a kitchen. I really couldn't see much, but I knew she was beautiful. And after that, they ain’t stop.”

He shook his head faintly.

“I got discharged after I got hurt,” he added. “And I couldn’t just let it go. I went from Chicago to Mississippi to Louisiana lokiing for her. I was out there searching day and night. I didn't know her name, I just knew what I saw.”

He let out a breath through his nose.

“When I was in Louisiana, I met Charlie and he told me about Twigs. He said if I was gonna find her she'd be up here. So I came.”

Mama Nette didn’t look surprised by the statement.

“Well, I'm glad my root worked,” she said, dropping another snapped bean into the bowl, “Almost thought I had lost my touch.”

Elijah’s hands stopped completely and looked up at her like he misheard.

“…Your root?” he repeated slowly. “You one of them witches?!”

She sucked her teeth loud, not even looking up this time.

“I ain’t no witch,” she said flatly. “And you keep working.”

Elijah blinked, staring at her. His mind was trying to catch up to what she just said. But he slowly picked the beans back up.

“How you doing magic then go sit up in church every Sunday? I thought you was Christian?,” he shook his head a little as he went back to snapping.

She let out a laught that made his frown deeper.

“Boy, you think ’cause I go to church I can’t work a root?” she asked while looking up at him again.

He didn’t answer right away. Because, yeah, that’s exactly what he thought.

She shook her head, amused.

“I’m from the South where folks in church been doing rootwork all their lives. Some know it, some don’t. It get passed down the same way anything else do. It's in us."

Elijah looked down at his hands again, trying to make sense of it all.

“So, just like that you sent me a dream?” he asked.

“Ain’t just like that,” she said. “It took some time.”

He exhaled through his nose. After a second, he glanced up again.

“Does Annie do it?” he asked curiously.

Because in all the time he’d known her, he’d never seen her do anything like that.

“She know some things, but not much. She ain't had the time to really learn,” she said. And I think you and that church been filling her head up.”

Elijah frowned at that.

“What you mean?”

“She wasn’t this locked up back home,” Mama Nette said plainly.

Elijah looked down, his mind moving through everything she was saying. He thought about the way Annie carried herself. And for the first time he wondered how much of that wasn't just her.

Elijah sat there for a moment, turning her words over in his head, his fingers slowing again against the beans.

“…So is that why Annie’s a—”

He stopped himself. It felt wrong to say it out loud. Like it wasn’t his place to put a word on her like that, even though it had already been said between them.

“Annie a what? A virgin?” she asked.

Elijah shifted slightly in his seat, but she didn’t give him time to get uncomfortable with it.

“You can say it to me,” she added, then went right back to her work. “But no. That ain’t it. She love church, but not for what you thinking. It’s a place she can go to spread her wings and love on people the way she meant to. Church ain’t nothing more than a building where folks come together and build community. That’s all it ever been to me, so that's what I taught her.”

She glanced up at him briefly.

“Besides we ain’t never went to one of them strict churches that make you dress and act a certain way to keep an appearance. You supposed to lead with love because that’s who you are. That’s who she is." she added.

Elijah listened quietly. He looked down at his hands, then back up at her.

“Then do you know why she is?” he asked. This time, his voice was more careful.

Annette’s hands stilled, but only for a second. A small heavy smile touched her face. She looked up at him like she was deciding how much to say and how much he deserved to hear.

Mama Nette held his gaze for a moment longer, then asked, calm as ever, “Elijah, how old are you?”

“Almost 27 now, but it don’t feel that way. Feel like I been here forever.”

“I can see it in your eyes that you know what it is to live through life. You seen some things you might never forget. But it helped make you the man you are,” she said.

Elijah nodded once. “Yes ma’am.”

“Annie a virgin ’cause she know what it means to not take care of her responsibility. And she don’t want to risk it. That ain’t the whole reason, but it’s a big part of it. You want kids, Elijah?”

He blinked, caught off guard, his answer stumbling out before he could really think it through.

“I—I think I do.”

“You know how many kids I got?”

He shook his head lightly. “Ain’t never heard of nobody else ’cept Ray and Marcus.”

That made her hum.

“I got six,” she said. “Three boys and three girls. The oldestis William. Then Clarisse…she got my gift. Then Rose. Then Ray. Then Mariah…” she paused just slightly, “…that’s Annie’s mama. Then Marcus.”

Elijah quietly listened, trying to take it all in.

“All six of my children live they own life,” she continued. “I don’t try to make ’em live it no other way but their own. Annie ever tell you about her mama?”

Elijah shook his head. “She didn’t want to talk about it when I asked.”

Mama Nette nodded slowly, like she expected that answer.

“Mm,” she hummed.

And the way she went quiet after that told him everything he needed to know.

“Mariah had Annie when she was about eighteen or nineteen,” she began. “It was a real rough time with her in my house. She ain’t never wanna do right and always wanted things to go her way. Now ain’t nothing wrong with being who you are, but you got to take responsibility for it too.”

Elijah listened, his hands barely keeping up with hers.

“She had this little boyfriend. He was a nasty, dirty boy and I ain't like him from the start. I tried to get her to leave him alone but she ain't wanna hear me,” Mama Nette went on, her lip curling slightly. “I taught all my kids about sex and what could come with it. Mariah ain't care nothing about my lessons, and neither did Marcus. But the difference between them, Marcus stayed and took care of his."

“I guess she got tired of me pressing her about that boy, 'cause she ran off when she was seventeen.” she said. "She came back pregnant a year or so later. She was crying, tellin' me how that boy ain't want bno baby and was gonna put her out if she ain't get rid of it."

Elijah’s brows pulled together slightly.

“I told her she could stay, but I wasn't helping her get rid of no baby when she was so far along,” Mama Nette said. “When I said that, she threw a fit. But she stayed. And I'll never forget that night when everything went wrong between us.”

Her hands slowed as the air in the kitchen got thicker.

“We was all sitting at the table, eating dinner and she just looked different. The way she was looking at me all night wasn't normal. Later on, she asked me if I would keep the baby 'cause she wasn't ready to be somebody's mama.”

A small breath left her.

“I was upset,” she admitted. “After everything I taught my kids, here she come asking me to take on something that wasn’t mine. But I told her I would under the condition that if I take that baby, she won't ever see it again. From the moment the baby given to me to the moment the baby die.”

She sat back just slightly.

“But that wasn’t just me being cruel,” she went on. “Mariah was my baby too. Why would I wanna keep her from her child?”

She shook her head.

“No. I wanted her to understand something that actions got consequences. And if I’m gon’ take care of something I ain’t had no hand in making, then I get full say in what happen. Especially when no baby asked to be here. And especially not to two no-good parents.” Annette said sharply.

“When I told her that, she got real mad. She said it was her baby and she could come see her whenever she wanted. She said how could a mother do something like this to her child.”

A faint scoff left her.

“Her and Rose had always been close, so Rose got upset too,” she added. “But I stood my ground. Both of 'em left and that was the last time I heard from 'em. A few weeks later, I opened my front door to leave for church when I heard the loudest cries. I looked down and there she was. Couldn’t have been more than a few hours old 'cause she wasn't even cleaned off good. I picked her up and took her straight to the hospital. I gave her my name so she would know she would always have somebody. It's been me and Annie ever since."

“I tried to teach her everything I know,” she added. “Let her learn what she could. But some things, a child learns on their own with no help or warning."

Seven-year-old Annie Richard walked down the sidewalk with her little bookbag bouncing against her back, her shoes scuffing the ground as she kicked at a loose rock in front of her. She was humming a hymn she heard in church, completely in her own little world. Her hair was done up in twists with little ribbons tied at the ends and her dress was just a little wrinkled from sitting in it all day at school.

She paused when she got to the corner store, pushing the door open with a small grunt, the bell above it jingling as she stepped inside.

Annie walked straight to the candy aisle like she’d done it a hundred times before, her small fingers trailing along the shelves as she scanned everything. Her eyes lit up as soon as she spotted what she wanted. She reached up on her tiptoes, stretching just a little to grab a bright bag of candy from the rack.

Her fingers had just wrapped around it, when another hand grabbed it too. Annie looked up completely startled.

A pretty woman stood there, but something about her felt off.

“You like those?” the woman asked, her voice was far softer than her stare.

Annie nodded, holding onto the bag. “Mhm. I’m getting it to share with my friend.”

Her voice was sweet, yet matter of fact.

The woman’s fingers slowly loosened from the bag, but her eyes didn’t leave Annie’s face. She squinted slightly like she was trying to place something.

“You from around here?” she asked.

Annie nodded again. “Mhm. I’m going to my friend house.”

The woman hummed under her breath, her eyes moving over Annie’s face taking everything in. Behind her, a man stood a few feet away, watching them quietly. His posture was more relaxed, but his eyes were just as fixed.

“Who your mama?” the woman asked next.

Annie shifted slightly, hugging the candy bag to her chest now.

“I don't have a mama, only my grandma,” she said. “Ms Annette Richard.”

The woman’s lips parted just slightly, her eyes sharpening with recognition.

The resemblance was clear as day, and her thoughts were just confirmed.

“What’s your name, baby?” she asked.

Annie answered without hesitation.

“Annette, but everybody call me Annie.”

The woman's hand lifted slowly, like she wanted to reach out to touch her face, but she stopped herself halfway. A mix of regret and guilt flowed through her body all at once, but she swallowed it down and forced a smile.

“That’s a pretty name,” she said softly.

Annie beamed at that while gripping her candy.

“Thank you.”

The woman glanced back at the man behind her then she looked back at Annie.

"Do you know who I am?” she asked.

Annie shook her head.

“I’m…” she started, but paused. “…I’m your mama.”

Annie blinked. She was confused now. This didn't make any sense.

“My mama?” she repeated, her brows pulling together slightly.

She glanced toward the man, then back at the woman. The woman nodded slowly.

“And this is your daddy…” she said, gesturing lightly.

The man gave a small nod, like he didn’t quite know what to do with himself.

Annie just stood there, holding her candy, looking between them. Her little face scrunched slightly as she tried to understand when it didn’t fit with anything she’d ever known.

“My grandma my mama,” she said softly.

The woman’s smile faltered for just a second. She looked like she didn’t know what to say next.

Annie just stood there with her small hands tightened little by little as she looked between the woman and the man. Her mama? Her daddy?

Ms Annette Richard had never told little Annie a lie. Not once. But she never said who her mama was either. Never gave her a face or name. So now her little mind was trying to make sense of something that had never been explained.

“I ain’t never heard of you,” Annie said honestly.

“She ain’t never mention me?” Mariah asked softly.

Annie shook her head. “No ma’am.”

Mariah shifted, stepping just a little closer, lowering herself some so she wasn’t towering over Annie.

“Well…” she started, her voice turning gentle and coaxing. “Would you like to get to know your mama and daddy?”

Her grandmother had always told her that her mama didn’t want her. And always said it in a way that Annie never questioned. So why was this woman standing here saying something different?

Annie’s chest felt tight all of a sudden. She felt a little hurt, curious, and just upset enough to fall into her "mama's" trap.

And just enough upset to make her look at this woman a little longer than she should’ve.

“How I know you my mama?” Annie asked carefully.

Mariah paused trying to think of anything that would bring recognition to the small girl. Then it hit her.

“Well, when I was pregnant with you I carved a little 'M' in the dining room table.” she said slowly.

Annie’s eyes widened instantly and a soft gasp left her mouth. Because she knew exactly what the woman was talking about.

The little letter was scratched into the wood, right near the edge on the right side of the table. Annie had traced it with her fingers a hundred times. She always thought Uncle Marcus did it. That’s what made sense.

Her little brain latched onto this information too fast.

“I know that,” Annie whispered.

Her eyes flicked up to Mariah again. She was a little more open and accepting now.

Mariah saw that and pressed just a little further.

“Come on and spend some time with us,” she said softly, holding her hand out.

Annie hesitated. Her eyes flicked toward the door, but then she looked back at the older woman and the man behind her. The curiousity won her over and she slowly placed her small hand into Mariah's.

Mariah’s fingers quickly closed around hers like she didn't want her to pull away. She gently took the candy from Annie’s other hand, guiding her toward the front of the store.

“Let’s pay for this first,” she said.

They walked up to the counter, Annie glancing back at her “daddy” who followed behind them.

Mariah set the candy on the counter, then looked back at him expectantly. His face tensed up slightly, like the idea of spending even a few cents on her irritated him. But under her look, he reached into his pocket anyway, pulled out the change, and dropped it on the counter.

The cashier barely paid them any mind and bagged up the candy.

Mariah took Annie’s hand again to lead her out of the store. The bell from the store door rung out as Annie was guided toward a nice shiny car. Mariah opened the back door for her.

“Go on, baby,” she said softly.

Annie climbed in, her little legs pulling up after her as she sat carefully on the seat, her candy bag resting in her lap. She looked around the inside of the car. It was clean and sweet smelling.

Her “daddy” got in the front without saying much, starting the car with a quiet turn of the key. Mariah got in beside him and they drove off.

Annie sat up straight, watching everything pass by her window. The further they went, the less familiar everything became. She was quiet as she watched the changing scenery. Every now and then, she’d glance up at the back of Mariah’s head, then at the man driving, then back out the window.

She was trying to make it all make sense. She was feeling so many things from excitement to scared, but mostly she was unsure.

It felt like a long time before the car finally slowed.

They turned off onto a busy street, and then pulled up in front of a really big house that made Annie look on in awe. It was far nicer than anything she's seen before. Her eyes widened just a little as she pressed her hand against the window.

“This your house?” she asked softly.

Mariah smiled. “It is.”

The car stopped and the man got out first.

Mariah turned back to Annie. “Come on.”

When they got inside the house, it was entirely too quiet. Everything was incredibly still.

Annie stepped in, her shoes soft against the floor as she looked around. It didn't feel like home yet.

Mariah didn’t seem to notice Annie's hesitancy. She took Annie’s hand again and led her to the stairs.

“I wanna show you something,” she said.

They went upstairs. Each step creaking just slightly under Annie’s feet as she climbed.

Mariah walked down the hall, stopping at a door and pushed it open.

“This is going to be your room,” she said, stepping aside.

Annie peeked in.

“My room?” she asked.

Mariah smiled like she'd been waiting for this exact moment.

Annie stepped inside slowly.

It was nice. There was a big bed with clean sheets and a floral cover, and a dresser near a large window with pretty lace curtains over it.

None of this felt like hers. There were no books or pretty flowers or her favorite dolls. It was just a simple room.

“You can do whatever you want in here,” Mariah said from the doorway.

Annie nodded slowly. “Okay.”

Mariah lingered for a second longer then left, her footsteps fading down the hall.

And Annie was alone.

She sat on the edge of the bed, pulling her candy into her lap. She opened it carefully, taking out one piece and popping it into her mouth.

She reached for another, but her grandmother’s voice echoed in her head clear as day.

Don’t spoil your dinner.

Annie huffed but decided to close the bag, and set it beside her to save it.

She decided to explore a little so she got up. She walked around the house a little, really only going from the stairs to the living room to the kitchen. She somehow found her way to the back door.

Outside, the yard behind the house was big with enough space to run around. So she did.

She spent hours running and playing made up games in her head like she always did when she was by herself. And, eventually, when her little body got tired she made her way inside.

The house was still quiet and empty-feeling.

She went upstairs on her own, remembering where the room Mariah showed her was. She found a bathroom nearby and ran herself a bath the way her grandmother had done. She washed herself quickly, the warm water relaxing her just enough to make her eyelids feel heavy.

Afterward, she found some clothes in the dresser and pulled them on. They were a little too big but still wearable.

Her stomach rumbled softly, so she went downstairs again, opened the fridge, and looked inside. There wasn’t much she recognized, but she found some milk and fruit. She ate quietly at the counter.

When she finished, she cleaned up behind herself then went back upstairs. She climbed into the bed slowly, pulling the covers up over her small frame. Annie stared up at the ceiling. Her mind was tired but still trying to understand everything. None of it felt real yet. She turned onto her side, pulling the blanket closer. And eventually she fell asleep.

Back at the Richard house, the smell of something good filled the kitchen. Annette moved around, one hand stirring a pot while the other reached for some seasoning without even needing to look.

The screen door creaked open and heavy footsteps came in behind it.

“Ma?” Ray’s voice carried through the house.

Mama Nette didn’t turn right away. “In here.”

Ray stepped into the kitchen, dusting his hands together. His presence filled the room different. He leaned down, pressing a quick kiss to the side of his mama’s head.

“Mmm. You getting skinnier on me,” she hummed.

He chuckled. “I'm the same size I was last time.”

She finally looked at him, giving him a once-over anyway like she didn’t quite believe that.

“Where Annie at?” he asked, glancing toward the hallway like she might come skipping out.

Annette went back to her pot. “At Cece’s. But she ‘posed to be back soon now.”

“I’ll go get her.” Ray was beyond ready to see his niece.

Mama Nette gave a small hum of acknowledgment.

Ray turned and left the house.

Cece's house wasn't far, only a few blocks over, so it didn't take him long to get there. He pulled up in front of the house and cut his engine. He stepped out, stretching once before heading up the short walkway, and knocked twice on the door.

The door opened a moment later, Cece’s mama standing there, wiping her hands on her apron.

“Well hey, Ray,” she greeted, surprised but smiling. “You back in town?”

“Yes ma’am,” he said politely, nodding. “I came to grab Annie. She over here?”

There was a small pause.

Cece’s mama frowned slightly. “Annie?”

“Yeah. My mama said she was over here with Cece,” Ray’s brows pulled together just a bit.

Cece’s mama shook her head slowly. “Baby, Annie ain’t been over here today.”

Ray blinked. “What you mean she ain’t been over here?”

“She ain’t come by at all,” she said, more firmly now. “Cece been here with me all afternoon.”

Ray's body subtly tensed up.

“You sure?” he asked, even though he could already tell by her face that she was.

“Yes, I’m sure.”

Silence stretched between them for a beat.

“Alright,” he said lowly. “Thank you.”

“You want me to—”

“No ma'am,” he cut in gently, stepping back.

Cece’s mama watched him for a second, concern starting to creep onto her face as he turned and headed back toward his car.

The second Ray got in, he shut the door harder than he needed to. His hands gripped the steering wheel tightly and his mind was moving fast. He pulled off, trying not to be too reckless.

His eyes scanned every sidewalk and corner he passed. He looked at every group of kids he went by. Because something wasn’t right.

He turned back onto his mama’s street and that feeling had only gotten worse. The car barely stopped before he was out of it, striding up the steps and pushing through the door.

“Ma!”

Annette turned around, took one good look at his face, and she knew.

“She never made it over there," Ray's breath was coming out heavier.

Annette set her spoon down slowly as she took in her son's words.

“What you mean she ain’t make it?”

Ray ran a hand over his head, pacing across the kitchen.

“I mean Cece mama said Annie ain’t been there all day.”

She turned toward the counter, wiping her hands off because she needed something to do with them.

“Go check that store on the corner,” she said. “Annie like to stop there for candy sometimes.”

“Okay.”

He didn’t waste another second. He practically ran out the door to get back in the car. He zipped down the road with his fingers tapping hard against the steering wheel and his leg bouncing restlessly.

She know better than to be wandering off.

That thought kept repeating in his head over and over.

He pulled up to the small corner store, not even bothering to park straight before he was out the car and heading inside.

The bell above the door rang and the man behind the counter looked up.

“Evenin’—”

“Did a little girl come in here earlier?” Ray cut in. “She 'bout this tall, with twists in her hair?"

The man squinted as if he was thinking. The he nodded in recognition.

“Yeah, she did.”

Relief hit Ray for half a second, but disappeared just as fast.

“When?” Ray pressed.

“Couple hours ago now,” the man said. “She came in, bought some candy.”

Ray leaned forward slightly. “She leave by herself?”

The man shook his head slowly. “No.”

“What you mean no?”

“She left with a man and a woman,” the man said.

Everything in Ray’s body went tight.

“What man?” His voice dropped.

“I don’t know ‘em,” the man shrugged. “Thought it was her folks or somethin’. They was talkin’ to her like they knew her.”

Ray’s hands clenched into fists at his sides. His chest rose and fell sharply.

“She don’t know them,” he said, more to himself than anything.

The man blinked. “Well, she walked out with ‘em. It ain’t look like nothin’ was wrong.”

That didn’t help much because Annie was polite little girl. Sweet enough to talk to anybody and listen to anything.

Ray dragged a hand down his face.

“You see which way they went?” he asked.

The man pointed vaguely toward the street. “That way.”

"Thank you," Ray nodded tensely.

When he pulled back up to the house, Ray felt like he was losing it. His breathing was heavy and his mind was jumbled with all the what-ifs.

“Ma!”

Annette walked toward him as soon as he got in the door.

“She was at the store earlier, but the man said she left with somebody,” he said. “It was a man and a woman and that they was talkin’ to her like they knew her. And she know better than that, Ma. You done told her—”

“I know what I told her,” Annette snapped.

She went to the phone, picked it up, and started turning the dial to call people. She was going to call her other sons, and she knew the word would spread fast from there.

At some point in the night, Annie stirred awake from the sudden loudness in the house. A sharp burst of laughter somewhere in the house fully brought her out of her sleep. Her small body shifted under the covers, brows knitting together as her eyes fluttered open in the dark.

For a second, she didn’t remember where she was. The ceiling above her wasn’t the one she knew.

The sounds felt like they were coming from far away yet were rigth in the room with her. The voices were layered and people were laughing and talking with each other.

Annie pushed herself up slowly, the blanket slipping down into her lap as she sat there, listening. She was utterly confused because the house had been so quiet before, but now it sounded alive.

Her little feet slid out from under the covers and carefully touched the floor. She hesitantly glanced toward the door. Curiosity tugged at her hard, so she slowly crept to the door. Her hand wrapped around the knob, turning it just enough to ease it open without a sound.

The hallway upstairs was dim with only a faint glow from downstairs creeping up the staircase. Annie stepped out, her small frame barely making a sound as she moved closer to the banister. Annie gripped the railing slightly, her fingers curling around the wood as she tried to make sense of what she was seeing.

And when she looked down her eyes widened. People were crowded around pressed close together. Music played loud enough now that she could feel it faintly in her chest. Smoke curled up toward the ceiling, making everything look hazy.

She stepped back from the stairs. Her heart was beating a little faster, but not from excitement.

She didn’t want to go downstairs and she knew she wasn’t ever supposed to get out of bed. Everything about what she had just seen made her want to stay where she was safe. So instead, she turned down the hallway and walked slowly.

Little Annie moved passed the doors, some were closed and others were barely shut. One in particular caught her attention. It was cracked open just enough. The voices inside didn't sound like the ones coming from downstairs.

Annie paused at the open door, her head tilting slightly as she listened. The voices sounded breathy and lighter than anything she's ever heard.

Curiosity got to her again, so she stepped closer. Her small hand lifted, pressing lightly against the door as she leaned in just enough to peek through the opening.

She saw a man and a woman tangled together in a way she had never seen before. The woman’s head tilted back, her voice breaking out in a sound Annie didn’t understand, while the man hovered over her.

Annie’s breath caught as she realized that they were both naked. A sharp, startled gasp slipped out of her before she could stop it.

Her eyes went wide as she took the sight in. None of this looked right and she didn't like. Her stomach twisted and she was confused. So without a second thought she ran.

Her feet hit the floor quickly as she hurried back down the hall, the sounds from that room chasing after her in her head. She pushed into her room, shutting the door fast behind her.

She scrambled back to the bed, climbing up onto it like the noises might follow her.

Her hands instantly flew up to her ears to cover them. Her eyes squeezed shut, her face scrunching as she tried to block everything out. Annie's small body curled in on itself and her heart raced. She was far too overwhelmed for her liking.

Because she didn’t know what she had just seen and she didn't think it was something she was supposed to see. And in this house that didn’t feel like home that feeling only got worse.

When Annie woke up the next morning, it was back quiet as if nothing had ever happened. She blinked up at the ceiling as she laid there, listening for any sounds. Annie frowned thinking she dreamed up everything that happened last night.

Her stomach growled and brought her out of it. She got out of bed, walked over to the door, and opened it slowly. She peeked out into the hallway.

Soft morning light was coming through the windows.

Annie stepped out, closing her door gently behind her then made her way down the hall and to the stairs. Each step down creaked gently under her weight.

When she reached the bottom step and walked to the kitchen, she saw people. It wasn't nearly as many as there were last night. Women were scattered around the kitchen and living room area talking lowly to each other. They were dressed in loose clothing, with shorts on and the shirt straps slipping down their shoulders. There was so much skin showing, it made Annie instinctively look away, unsure where her eyes were supposed to go.

One woman had a cigarette between her fingers, smoke curling up as she laughed at something someone said.

Annie stayed right there at the edge of the room, her hands coming together in front of her. her chest felt tight and she had the instant realization that she didn't want to be there. She wanted to go home.

One of the women noticed her first. The woman's eyes widened slightly when she looked over.

“Who kid is that?” she asked.