Stranger In My House - Part 10
Author's Note: I want to be transparent—earlier parts had a few timeline/age inconsistencies. I went back, did the math, and I’m tightening everything up so the story stays consistent moving forward. Official timeline: Roman is May 1989, Janelle is April 1990, and Leo & Luna are June 2010 babies. That means in November 2022 the twins are 12 (middle school age). Thank you for rocking with me on this story.
Themes: Closure, Missing Loved Ones, Drama, Free Roman, Healing, Fresh Start.
They say time heals everything, but Janelle didn’t feel healed at all.
Two weeks had passed since everything came to light. Two weeks without Roman. Two weeks without the twins, too.
Janelle had asked Roman’s parents to keep Leo and Luna until Janelle could steady themself, get healthy, and stop falling apart in front of the kids.
Today, the twins were coming back. The move was already planned down to the minute.
Robin had handed over the keys and walked Janelle through the new house.
Janelle woke up and moved slow, like careful steps could keep grief from spilling over. She packed the last box and wrote ACCESSORIES across the top.
By the time the marker dried, Roman’s parents were pulling up with the twins.
Janelle opened the door and wrapped both kids up tight.
“Hey, my babies. Come in,” Janelle said, voice cracking. “I missed you so much.”
Luna looked up, brows pinched. “Mom… you had us gone for a long time. What happened?”
“Well… your dad is away at a work program for a while,” Janelle said. “And we’re moving to a bigger home. He had it set up for us. I just needed time to get everything situated, so you stayed with your grandparents.”
Leo and Luna traded a look, then nodded. No more questions.
“Alright,” Janelle said, forcing a brighter tone. “I need you both to pack up your rooms. The boxes are already in there, and they’re labeled with your names. Just fill them up for me, okay?”
Leo and Luna answered together, “We got you, Mom.”
Janelle turned to Roman’s parents.
“Thank you both so much for keeping them this whole time.”
“It’s okay, sweetheart,” Roman’s mom said. “We’re here for you, the kids, and Roman. No matter what.”
Roman’s dad smiled. “Speaking of… we heard there’s another bundle of joy on the way.”
Janelle rubbed the small bump, half embarrassed, half overwhelmed. “Yeah. Definitely unexpected.”
“Oh,” Janelle said, pulling keys from her pocket. “And here. The spare keys for the new place.”
“Thank you,” Janelle said. “I’ll see you later.”
Roman’s mom squeezed her hand. “And when you’re ready, sweetheart, I can come by and help you decorate.”
They hugged again. Janelle walked them out.
The second the door clicked shut, the phone rang.
Janelle’s hands shook so hard she almost dropped the phone.
YOU ARE RECEIVING A CALL FROM ROMAN.
AN INMATE AT GEORGIA STATE PRISON.
TO ACCEPT THIS CALL, PRESS 1.
Janelle pressed the button.
“Baby,” Roman’s voice came through, rough and familiar. “You there?”
“Roman… of course I am,” Janelle said. “The twins just got dropped off. I gave your parents the spare keys like you told me.”
“Good. What’d you tell the twins?”
“That you’re at a work program. I’ve got them packing right now. Movers should be here any minute.”
“Good,” Roman said. “Put them on the phone.”
Janelle walked down the hall.
“Leo, Luna,” Janelle called, trying to keep their voice steady. “Your dad’s on the phone. Come here.”
They ran in, grinning like they hadn’t been worried at all.
“Dad, we miss you,” Leo said.
“Yeah,” Luna added quickly. “We were supposed to get new sneakers together.”
“I know,” Roman said, softer now. “But listen. Everything’s okay. You’re going to see me soon. I’m calling every day. While I’m gone, you listen to your mother. Keep your grades up. You hear me?”
“Yes,” they said together.
“Good. I love y’all. Now go back to packing.”
They handed the phone back.
Janelle exhaled. “Thank you for that.”
Janelle’s voice turned serious. “Anything you can fill me in on? How’s my dad holding up? How’s the food? And you… how’s your mental health?”
“J.B., slow down,” Roman said, even though Janelle’s throat tightened at his concern. “I’m okay. Your dad’s like an OG in there. Food is trash, but you already know that.”
Roman let out a short breath.
“And I found out something,” Roman said. “Drew kept a journal all these years. Growing up… he was really obsessed with you.”
Janelle’s stomach dropped. “Obsessed with me… for what?”
“Man, fuck Drew,” Janelle said, voice hard now. “Other than that, I’m glad you and my dad are good. I’ll keep giving Robin pictures for you… so you can see the belly getting bigger.”
“You’re right,” Roman said. “Fuck him. And baby number three is going to be taken care of, no matter what.”
His voice cracked just a little. “I’m sorry I won’t be there for the birth. That’s been eating at me.”
“I know,” Janelle whispered. “It’s messing with me too.”
YOU HAVE 1 MINUTE REMAINING
Roman’s voice got fast. “Alright, I gotta get off. Remember: I love you. Anything you and the kids need, you got it. No questions.”
“We love you too, Roman,” Janelle said.
The movers arrived and worked so fast that, before Janelle could even catch their breath, they and the twins were already on the road to the new house.
When they pulled up, Janelle opened the double doors and exhaled. It felt like clean air. A fresh start.
The movers carried boxes inside, asking where to place them, and Janelle pointed them to each room like they had rehearsed it.
Then Luna’s voice cut through Janelle’s daydream.
“Now you go to your rooms and unpack,” Janelle said gently. “I’m going to make us something to eat.”
The twins disappeared upstairs, and Janelle went straight to the kitchen. She cooked their favorites: baked macaroni and cheese, barbecue chicken, and broccoli. For a moment it almost felt normal. Almost.
They ate together, talked, and laughed in small bursts, but Roman’s name kept circling back around the table. Janelle heard it every time the conversation went quiet.
After dinner they cleaned up. Janelle still hadn’t gone upstairs. She knew they needed rest, for their own sake and the baby’s, but missing Roman—and not knowing if he was okay—had a way of keeping a body standing long after it should have sat down.
Janelle filled a glass with ice water and finally started up the stairs—until Luna came back down.
“Luna, why aren’t you in bed?” Janelle asked, pressing a kiss to her forehead.
Luna’s eyes looked too big in the soft light. “I can’t sleep here. I can’t get comfortable. Promise me this is the last place we have to move to.”
Janelle’s chest tightened. She pulled Luna close. “Sweetie, I promise. This is it for a long time.”
Janelle walked Luna back upstairs.
“Try to get some rest,” Janelle said at Luna’s door. “You get to decorate your room any way you want. Paint, lights, whatever you want. Turn on your white-noise machine. It’ll start to feel like home soon. I promise.”
Luna nodded, and they hugged again before going to their rooms.
New beginnings… but what was coming next?
First time being locked up. Not my first problem, not my first fight, not my first time having to keep my head on a swivel… but this long? Nah. I can’t sit here and act like this is light work. Mentally, this shit is no joke. The walls don’t move, the air don’t feel clean, and every day got its own way of trying to break you down.
And look… did I tell y’all these weird muthafuckers tried to cut my hair?
Soon as I hit this block, somebody thought it was funny. Tried to play it off like they were “helping me clean up.” I shut that down immediately.
“Nobody touches my hair,” I told them. “Not in here, not nowhere. Only person that can put hands in my hair is my wife.”
They laughed like I was joking, but when they saw my face, the whole vibe changed. People in here test you just to see what you’ll allow. If you let one thing slide, they start stacking disrespect like it’s rent.
What’s crazy is I didn’t know how connected Janelle’s dad was until I got in here with him. I swear it feels like every other day somebody walk past our cell and nod like, Yo, what’s up, Mr. B?
And it ain’t just old heads either. It’s dudes we grew up with. Robbers. Scammers. Jack boys. Cats that used to be on the same corners, riding the same bikes, talking the same slick talk. Everybody ended up in the same place eventually.
Me? I keep my routine tight.
That’s the only way I stay sane in here. If I don’t burn this energy off, it turns into anger. And anger in a place like this is gasoline.
I was knocking out push-ups, sweating through my shirt, counting like the numbers could drown out my thoughts. Fifty. Sixty. Seventy. Then a hundred. Then I kept going.
Lance finally looked up from this dusty-ass sports magazine from like 2005 and said, “You good, son? You been doing push-ups for the past hour.”
I didn’t stop. Didn’t even look at him.
“Yeah, I’m good,” I lied, because that’s what men do when they’re not. “I just… I miss Janelle. I miss the kids. I gotta stay moving or I’m gonna lash out.”
Lance stared at me for a second, like he understood more than I was saying.
“Don’t worry, son,” he said, calm as ever. “They good. And we good.”
I nodded, but it didn’t settle nothing.
Not when my family was out there living without me.
Not when my baby was growing and I wasn’t there to touch that belly.
Not when my kids were learning how to be people and I wasn’t there to correct them, protect them, love on them.
Because in here, if you stop… your mind starts talking.
And my mind been saying too much.
Janelle gave birth to a healthy baby boy at 6 pounds, 4 ounces on July 24, 2023.
The room was quiet in that soft, after-storm way hospitals get at night. The monitors kept time. The lights stayed low.
Janelle lay back against the pillows, hair damp at the edges, body tired to the bone, but eyes wide like they were afraid to miss a second.
Leo and Luna stood on either side of the bed, both trying to look grown and brave even with their faces still wet.
“Is he okay?” Luna whispered.
Janelle nodded, voice rough but steady. “He’s perfect.”
Leo leaned closer, staring at the baby’s tiny fists. “He’s little-little.”
“Say hi to your brother,” Janelle said.
She shifted the bundle in their arms and looked down at him like the world had narrowed to this one small breath.
“Hey, Leati Reigns,” Janelle murmured. “You did it. You made it.”
The baby blinked slow, then let out a thin cry that turned into a hiccup, and Janelle laughed once, surprised by it.
They were all right there.
But the space on the other side of the bed felt louder than the machines.
Janelle’s smile held, but their throat tightened.
“All we’re missing,” Janelle said softly, kissing the baby’s forehead, “is your daddy.”
Janelle had cooked enough food on New Year’s Eve to feed a whole team, so on New Year’s Day they were eating leftovers, whether the kids liked it or not. That was the rule.
The house smelled like smoked turkey, sweet yams, and macaroni that had crusted just right around the edges. Janelle stood at the counter with Leati on their hip, feeding him little bites and wiping his chin before he could smear it all down their shirt.
Leo and Luna came downstairs like they didn’t live there, all attitude and sleep still stuck to their faces.
“Mom,” Luna said, already halfway to complaining, “what we doing today? I do not wanna be in this house all day.”
Janelle didn’t even look up. “First of all, happy New Year. Second of all, you can get a plate and sit down.”
Luna made a face. “Can I at least go get some new boots? Mine be—”
“Luna,” Janelle cut in, finally turning, eyebrow raised. “You are wearing brand new boots right now. Matter of fact, you got at least two more pairs upstairs you haven’t even broken in yet.”
Luna tossed her braids back like Janelle was the one being dramatic. “I’m just a girl, Mom. I have needs.”
Leo snorted from the doorway. “Here she go.”
“And what about Leo?” Luna pressed, pointing like she was presenting evidence in court. “He been wearing Dad’s shoes like it’s normal. You not gonna say nothing about that?”
Janelle took a slow breath, the kind that meant they were choosing peace on purpose. “Baby, I’m your mother. I’m the one with needs. But y’all come first because y’all are my children. Don’t get it twisted.”
Then Janelle’s eyes slid to Leo.
Leo froze, one shoulder lifted like he was innocent. “What?”
“You know exactly what,” Janelle said, voice low. “I told you to leave your daddy’s shoes and watches where you found them.”
Leo’s ears went pink. He stepped out of the sneakers like they were burning his feet and set them down with the watch on top.
“Mm-hm.” Janelle shifted Leati higher on their hip. “Both of y’all, go get dressed. We’re going to your grandparents’.”
Leati perked up like he understood one word only.
“Grandma!” he yelled, clapping hard and fast.
Luna rolled her eyes. “Of course he excited. Grandma stay giving him treats.”
“And Sika always wanna take him fishing,” Leo added, finally smiling a little.
Janelle watched them both—taller now, sharper, full of opinions and secrets and moods that changed every five minutes. Teenagers. Not babies anymore.
And it hit Janelle the same way it had been hitting them for months.
Everything had changed so fast.
They still wanted family time, still wanted the traditions, still wanted the kids close… but Leo and Luna didn’t move like little kids anymore. They wanted space, freedom, and a say-so. And Janelle was trying to hold tight without squeezing too hard.
“Come on,” Janelle said, kissing Leati’s cheek. “Let’s go see our peoples.”
The guard cut down Cell Block B in the late afternoon, keys clanking, boots loud on concrete. He stopped at the cell Roman shared with Lance and didn’t even look all the way in before he barked,
“Brooks. Reigns. On your feet. Grab your belongings. And don’t waste my time.”
Lance stood up slow, calm like always. He didn’t reach for anything.
Roman’s stomach tightened.
“What’s this about?” Roman asked.
“Move,” the guard said, flat. “Now.”
Roman grabbed the few things that mattered: the worn photos of Janelle, Leo, and Luna that Robin kept getting to him. He pressed them together in his fist like a prayer.
They were walked out, through one building, then another. Down a hallway that smelled like bleach and old sweat. Past doors that didn’t open for anyone.
A black SUV waited at the curb, engine already running.
Roman blinked against the sunlight, trying to make sense of it.
And then the driver door opened.
Roman’s whole body went still.
Robin nodded once, like we don’t have time for feelings.
“Hop in,” Robin said. “We gotta go.”
“You know what’s going on?” Roman asked.
Robin didn’t answer. Just held the back door open.
Roman and Lance climbed in.
They didn’t ask more questions after that, because in this world, you either move when you’re told… or you don’t move at all.
The SUV pulled off like it had somewhere to be.
Eight hours later, they were in Florida.
The air felt different. Wetter. Warmer. Like the world had kept spinning while Roman was locked in a box.
Robin pulled over once, somewhere quiet.
Lance opened his door first.
Roman leaned forward. “Where you going?”
Lance gave him a small look, the same look he gave in the cell when Roman’s mind ran too loud.
“I gotta handle my business,” Lance said. “I’ll see you soon, young blood.”
Roman nodded, even though his heart didn’t.
Lance shut the door and walked off without looking back. Lowkey to the end.
When they finally pulled up, it was to a gated home that looked like peace with money on it. Tall walls. Clean lines. Cameras that didn’t blink.
Robin parked and cut the engine.
Roman looked over. “Whatever you did… thank you.”
Robin’s mouth twitched like that was the closest thing to a smile he had. “Just go.”
Security met him before he even reached the front door.
“Mr. Reigns,” one of them greeted, respectful.
Roman’s hand hovered over the handle like he didn’t trust it to be real.
“Anybody home?” Roman asked.
The guard shook his head. “No, sir. They been at your parents’ all day.”
Roman nodded, throat tight.
He unlocked the double doors.
The house opened up around him, quiet and waiting.
Roman stepped inside and closed the door behind him.
For the first time in a long time, the air didn’t smell like cages.
Roman moved through the house like he was scared somebody would tell him it wasn’t his.
The walls were dressed in clean art and family photos. The kitchen was wide and bright. The movie room looked like a whole damn theater. A gym sat off the hall, smelling like new rubber and fresh paint, waiting for him to put the work back in.
He kept touching things. The counter. The banister. The back of a leather chair.
He found the master bedroom and went straight to the bathroom like his body had been holding its breath for years.
That maroon jumpsuit hit the floor fast.
He didn’t even think about food. Didn’t care about nothing but getting the prison off his skin.
And again, like water could rinse out time.
When he finally stopped, he stood in front of the mirror and just looked.
Hair hanging past his shoulders, dry and tangled at the ends. Beard thick, overgrown.
Eyes tired in a way he didn’t have words for.
He pressed his palm to the sink.
“I’m home,” he whispered, like he needed to hear it out loud.
Roman dressed in clean clothes and sat on the edge of the bed, elbows on his knees. He bowed his head and prayed.
Thank you for letting me make it.
Thank you for letting me get back to mine.
A little while later, he heard it.
The soft thump of a car door. Voices outside. The front door opening.
Then the bedroom door swung wide.
Janelle stood there with their LV on her shoulder, keys in hand, like she had walked in ready to talk business.
She turned, saw him, and the whole world stopped.
“Roman…?” Her voice broke right on his name. “Baby—how you… what happened? How you in here?”
Janelle was crying before the question even finished. She crossed the room in two steps and jumped into his arms.
Roman caught them tight, held them like he’d been starving.
“J.B. Hey. Hey,” he said, voice low in her ear. “Don’t worry, baby. I’m home now. I’m here.”
Janelle pulled back just enough to look at him, hands on his face like she had to make sure his skin was real.
“Look at you,” she whispered, blinking hard. “Oh my God… you need a cut. Come on. Right now.”
She dragged him to the bathroom like she had done it a hundred times before, like it was routine and not a miracle.
Roman sat between the his-and-hers sinks and watched Janelle move with that familiar energy. Tender hands. Bossy love.
Janelle ran water, got the products lined up, and started washing his hair.
“You good?” Janelle asked, but their voice was doing too much to really be calm.
Roman’s throat tightened. “I’m better now that I’m looking at you.”
Janelle clicked their tongue softly. “Mm-hm. Don’t try to sweet-talk me. Fill me in. What happened?”
Roman let out a breath. “Long story. Robin handled it. It’s… it ain’t done yet. I’m still trying to figure out what Robin did—and why.”
Janelle worked the conditioner through his hair, fingers gentle but firm. “Okay.”
Then, quieter: “And the kids.”
Roman’s eyes met theirs in the mirror.
Janelle swallowed. “Leo plays soccer now. Luna’s cheering.” Her lips twitched like she didn’t even know how to explain it, like she was carrying too much all by herself. “They been keeping me going most days.”
Roman nodded slowly, but his eyes stayed on Janelle.
“Janelle.” He said it like a warning. “Don’t sugarcoat.”
Janelle’s hands paused for half a second.
She exhaled. “They teenagers now, Roman.”
Janelle rinsed his hair, then started trimming his beard.
“They not bad kids,” Janelle said. “But they mouthy. They sensitive. They act like they grown one minute and like they need you the next. And I been trying to hold it down by myself.”
Roman stared at his own reflection, then at Janelle behind him.
Janelle’s eyes softened but they didn’t let him off the hook. “I don’t need sorry. I need you present.”
Roman nodded. “You got me.”
Janelle finished, oiled his scalp, and pulled his hair into a neat man bun.
Then Janelle froze, head tilting.
He looked up. “What’s that?”
Janelle’s voice dropped into a smile. “Uh-oh. I hear little feet.”
Roman blinked. “Little feet?”
Janelle leaned in, kissed his forehead, then took his hand and led him back into the bedroom.
“Come on,” they whispered. “Time for you to meet baby number three for real.”
Janelle went to the door and crouched, scooping up Leati like it was nothing.
Leati had a fist full of blanket and sleepy eyes, but he wasn’t fighting it.
Janelle kissed his cheek and whispered, “Shh, baby. Daddy’s right here.”
Leati, soft and patient: “Remember those pictures I showed you? That’s your daddy.”
Leati stared, trying to make sense of the face.
Janelle stepped closer to Roman.
“Leati,” she said clearly, like introductions mattered in this house, “say hi to Daddy.”
Leati’s gaze went from Janelle to Roman.
Roman’s eyes got glassy. “Hey, little man…”
Janelle smiled through their own tears. “Roman… say hi to your baby boy. This is Leati Reigns.”
Roman stood up slow, like his knees forgot how to work.
When Leati reached for him, Roman made a sound that was half laugh, half choke.
He took Leati carefully, like he might break the moment.
And right there, in his arms, Roman saw it.
His own face. His own eyes.
“Ay,” Roman whispered, rocking him gently. “That’s my boy.”
He walked Leati around the room until those heavy baby blinks turned into sleep.
Roman kissed Leati’s forehead and looked at Janelle.
“Right next to ours,” Janelle said. “But… he been sleeping with me since he was born.”
Roman’s expression shifted, something protective and grateful.
“I got you now,” he said, quiet.
Roman laid back on the bed and Janelle placed Leati between them.
Roman stared at the ceiling for a second, then turned to Janelle.
“Aight,” he said, voice low. “Back to what we was saying. Leo and Luna… how they acting for real?”
Janelle hesitated, then shrugged she was tired of carrying it alone.
“You gonna see tomorrow,” Janelle said. “I’m keeping the routine the same. Breakfast at 6:30. School by 8. You come down quiet and surprise them.”
Then his eyes sharpened again. “But next time, don’t sugarcoat me, babe.”
Janelle’s shoulders sank with relief and stress all at once. “I know. I just… I wanted you to see it yourself. I didn’t want you walking in thinking it was all sweet.”
Roman reached out, cupped Janelle’s face, and pressed a kiss to her forehead.
“I see you,” he whispered. “You did good.”
Janelle finally let themself breathe. She laid down, pulled Leati close.
Sleep came for them fast.
Maybe two hours, if that.
He stayed up, watching over Janelle and Leati, hand resting on the baby’s back like an anchor.
He kept listening for every creak, every sound.
Like if he stayed awake, nobody could take this from him.
He still couldn’t believe he was home.
Janelle woke up to Roman’s voice drifting in the next room —soft, steady, like a lullaby.
Roman sat in the rocker with Leati tucked against his chest, a picture book open in one hand. Leati’s curls were smashed on Roman’s shoulder, eyes heavy, listening more to the sound of his daddy than the words.
Janelle paused in the doorway, heart warming so fast it almost hurt. For a second, she just watched.
Roman glanced up and caught her staring.
“Go ‘head,” he mouthed, barely moving his lips. I got him.
Janelle smiled, the kind that came from deep relief.
“Remember,” Janelle whispered, “come down at 6:30.”
Roman nodded once. “I’m already up, J.B.”
Janelle crossed the room, kissed Roman, then leaned down to kiss Leati’s forehead. Leati made a sleepy little noise and grabbed at Janelle’s shirt.
“Daddy got you,” Janelle whispered to him, then to Roman, “Thank you.”
Roman’s arms tightened around the baby. “Always.”
With Roman holding it down, Janelle got a real shower, got dressed, and tried to pull herself together for the day.
Downstairs, the kitchen turned into therapy.
Janelle moved fast, hands busy on purpose. Pancakes on one griddle. Sausages and bacon on the other. Eggs low and slow. Fruit washed and cut.
Leati’s high chair was pulled right up to the counter like he was the supervisor. The second he spotted the strawberries, he started patting his tray.
“You see ‘em,” Janelle told him. “Don’t rush me.”
Leati grinned, showing those little baby teeth like he paid bills.
At 6:25 on the dot, Leo and Luna came down the stairs.
Luna’s braids were wrapped up, and she had that face on already—sleepy attitude and lip gloss. Leo had his hoodie pulled up, earbuds dangling, and the same stubborn set to his jaw Roman had.
“Good morning, my babies,” Janelle said, going in for kisses anyway.
Luna leaned away just a little, but not all the way.
Leo took his kiss like it was an inconvenience, but his shoulder softened when Janelle’s hand rested there.
They sat down a seat apart from each other, like distance made them grown.
Janelle could feel Roman before she saw him—quiet footsteps behind them, a shadow in the doorway.
Roman stayed back, letting the house speak first.
Luna’s eyes landed on the pancakes and she sighed like somebody had personally disrespected her.
“Mom,” she said, drawing the word out, “where the waffles at? You know I eat waffles. Pancakes be too… pancake-y.”
Janelle closed her eyes for half a second and rolled her neck, choosing peace the way people choose not to catch a case.
Then she set Luna’s plate down with a little more force than necessary.
“Baby, you gon’ eat what I made,” Janelle said, voice calm but cutting. “Or you can go eat that sad breakfast at school. Either way, you will be fed.”
Luna rolled her eyes so hard it looked like they might get stuck.
Janelle spooned Leati a few berries, a small portion of eggs, and triangle-cut pancakes on his tray.
Leati snatched a strawberry and shoved it in his mouth like he’d been waiting all night.
Luna watched, then smacked her lips.
“It’s crazy,” she said. “Leati your favorite now. You literally give him whatever he want.”
Leati turned his head, cheeks full, and said, very clearly, “No.”
Luna pointed her fork. “See? He be talking back too.”
“And you be talking too much,” Leo muttered.
Luna swung on him immediately. “Oh, and look—Leo wearing Daddy shoes again like it’s normal.”
Leo’s eyes flashed. “And you still hiding cigarettes for your little dusty friends. Don’t play with me.”
Janelle’s head snapped up. “Excuse me?”
But the twins were already at it, voices rising as slick little comments and teenage pride collided.
They didn’t notice Roman at first.
Because Roman moved like that.
A storm waiting for somebody to test the air.
He slid into the seat between them, casual like he’d been there the whole time.
Leo’s voice died mid-sentence.
Luna’s fork froze halfway to her mouth.
Roman looked from one to the other, face unreadable.
“Good morning,” he said, quiet.
Luna’s whole face changed—shock, disbelief, then the kind of emotion she didn’t know how to hold, so it turned into attitude.
His voice didn’t rise. It didn’t need to.
“Apologize to your mother. Right now.”
Leo mumbled, eyes down. “Sorry, Ma.”
Luna hesitated like she wanted to fight it, then her shoulders dropped.
“I’m sorry,” she said, quiet.
Roman nodded once, like that’s what I thought.
“Now,” he said, leaning back in his chair, “Leo. Me and you gon’ talk one-on-one later. Don’t think you slick.”
Leo’s face tightened, but he didn’t say a word.
Roman’s eyes shifted to Luna.
“And Luna… since when you start talking to your mama like that?”
Leo couldn’t help himself. “Since she started cheerleading—”
Roman cut him off with one look.
Leo shut up so fast it was like somebody muted him.
Roman turned back to them both.
“I’m home,” he said, steady. “So listen close. I’m taking y’all to school every day until I see respect and some changed behavior. I’m checking grades. If either one of y’all slipping, electronics gone. And don’t have me pulling up to your classes and embarrassing you. Because I will.”
Luna scoffed, but it came out weak.
Leo stared at his plate like the pancakes might save him.
Roman finally looked at Janelle.
“J.B., go open the salon like you planned,” he said, voice softening just a little. “I got it from here.”
Janelle stood there for a second, throat tight.
Not because Roman was being strict.
Janelle nodded, swallowing hard. “Okay.”
And the house felt like it could breathe again.
