The silence in mama Grace's boutique was heavy despite the soft classic music playing from the overhead speakers. The mannequins stood like frozen witnesses, dressed in expensive fabric and fine lace, but mama Grace sat slumped behind the counter, starring at nothing.
She had locked the doors two hours earlier, turned off the store lights, and let her head rest in her palms.
The shame , like thick smoke, refused to lift
Everything was catching up with her . The coldness in sister J's voice, the pain in her eyes, and the look of betrayal that flickered on kwame's face, it had all pierced through the armor she had built for years.
In her drawer, tucked away under old recipets and promotional flyers, was an envelope she hadn't opend in years.
Her fingers trembled as she reached for it. She didn't need to open it , she knew every word. But tonight, she had to see it again.
She unfolded the yellowing letter carefully.