The next morning, I sat across from my sisters at Café Reconcile in Central City, trying not to check my phone for the hundredth time.
Amai still hadn’t texted back.
I’d sent that message last night.Dr. Chen said everything looks good. Thank you again for sending her.And gotten nothing. Not even a thumbs up. Just silence.
Which was fine.
It wasfine.
He was busy. He had a whole life I knew nothing about. A business. Responsibilities. He wasn’t sitting around waiting to hear from me.
I was his surrogate. Not his woman.
I needed to remember that.
“Girl, you ain’t even touched your food,” Raven said, pointing her fork at my untouched shrimp and grits. “What’s wrong with you?”
“Nothing,” I said quickly. “Just tired.”
Raven narrowed her eyes. She had Mama’s face—sharp cheekbones, full lips, eyes that saw too much. But where Mama’sedges had been softened by years and alcohol, Raven’s were still razor-sharp.
“Mm-hmm,” she said, not believing me for a second.
Saroya, sitting to my left, reached over and squeezed my hand. She was the oldest, the peacemaker, the one who’d raised us as much as Mama had. Her three kids were with their daddy today, which meant she actually had time to breathe.
“Let her eat,” Saroya said gently. “She invited us out. Let’s just enjoy it.”
“That’s what I’m tryna figure out,” Raven said, leaning back in her chair. “Where all this money come from? First you buying us gifts, now you treating us to brunch at Café Reconcile? Last month you was borrowing twenty dollars for the bus.”
Honor laughed—a bright, surprised sound that made the table next to us look over.
“Damn, Raven,” Honor said, shaking her head. “You ain’t gotta put her business out there like that.”
“I’m just saying.” Raven shrugged. “I’m happy she got money now. I just wanna make sure she ain’t gon’ let another nigga steal it.”
The words hit me like a slap.
I set my fork down carefully, my appetite completely gone.
“I didn’t let anybody steal anything,” I said quietly.
“I’m just saying.”
“Raven.” Saroya’s voice was firm. “Chill.”
Raven held up her hands in surrender, but her eyes stayed on me. Watching. Waiting.
I took a breath.
This was it.
I knew I’d have to tell them eventually. Mama already knew. And if Mama knew, it was only a matter of time before she told them anyway.
“I’m a surrogate,” I said.
Silence.
All three of them stared at me.
