The following week, the Grant house stopped pretending.
The smiles were gone. The bragging slowed down.
And the same people who had shouted God finally answered were now whispering behind half-closed doors.
Because once suspicion enters a house, peace packs its bags.
Terrence could not let Sabrina’s four months comment go.
He replayed it while brushing his teeth. He replayed it while driving to work. He replayed it at night when Sabrina turned her back and acted offended.
Four months.
That number kept haunting him.
Finally, one evening, Terrence stood in the middle of the living room and said what everyone knew was coming.
“We need to settle this.”
Sabrina looked up from her phone, already irritated. “Settle what?”
Terrence’s voice was tight. “How far along are you really? And who is Rico Lane?”
The room went still.
Ivonne was in her armchair. Kesha was pretending to scroll on her phone, but her ears were wide open.
Even Darnell, who had stopped by uninvited as usual, leaned against the wall like he had front-row tickets.
Sabrina laughed, but it came out forced.
“Terrence, you are doing too much.”
Terrence stepped forward. “No. I’m tired of the lies.”
Sabrina stood up fast. “Lies?” she snapped. “After everything I’m carrying, you calling me a liar?”
Ivonne jumped in, trying to protect the fantasy she had helped build.
“Terrence, calm down,” she said. “Don’t stress that girl. She’s pregnant.”
But Terrence was no longer listening to comfort.
He was listening to fear.
“Answer me,” he demanded. “Who is Rico?”
