As I stepped through the front door of our house with Becky. It did feel as different as when I left. The peace I’d felt in Pastor James’s study was already a fleeting memory, a small, warm ember in the vast, cold of my fear.
The sound of the door closing had barely faded when my parents emerged from the living room. Their faces were alight with a cautious, radiant joy I hadn’t seen in months. It was a look that simultaneously warmed me and broke my heart.
“Millicent!” My mother breathed, her hands clasped together as if in prayer. She rushed forward and pulled me into a tight embrace, her familiar lavender scent enveloping me. “You came. You were in church. We saw you.” Her voice was thick with emotion.
Over her shoulder, my father, Adofo, stood beaming, his eyes shimmering.
“Our daug
