ログインAyana didn't go home that night. She texted her mother at midnight: *Staying at Catherine's. Don't wait up.* A lie, but one more wouldn't make a difference now. She was in Nelson's bed, wrapped around him while he stared at the ceiling, unable to sleep or cry or do anything except exist in the horrible aftermath. "He hates me," Nelson said for the hundredth time. "He's hurt. That's different." "Is it?" He turned his head, looked at her with eyes that had aged a decade in three hours. "Twenty years of friendship is gone Ayana. Because I couldn't keep my hands off his daughter." "Stop." She pressed her fingers to his lips. "Stop making this sound sordid. What we have—it's not dirty or wrong. It's just... inconvenient." He almost smiled. Almost. Her phone buzzed. Catherine: *Mom knows you're not here. She called me. I covered but she's suspicious. Dad came home an hour ago and locked himself in his study. What the hell happened?* Ayana: We told him. It went as badly as you'd imag
Pastor Marcus walked into Nelson's living room with a warm smile and open arms, completely unaware he was about to have his heart ripped out."Nelson, good to see you." He shook Nelson's hand, then noticed Ayana. His smile widened. "Ana? I didn't know you'd be here.""I asked her to come," Nelson said, his voice already strained. "What I need to discuss involves her."Something in Nelson's tone made her father's smile falter. He looked between them, seeing for the first time the tension, the fear, the guilt written on both their faces."What's going on?" Marcus sat slowly on the couch. "Is this about the centre? or The Garrett situation?""No." Nelson remained standing, couldn't seem to make himself sit. "It's about...; Marcus, there's no easy way to say this.""Then just say it." Her father's pastor voice emerged, the one he used when someone was about to confess something terrible.Ayana stepped closer to Nelson. Their hands found each other, fingers intertwining. Her father's eyes
It's Friday morning Ayana barely slept. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw her father's face showcasing betrayal and his betrayal hardening into rage. She'd rehearsed what to say a hundred times, but still none of it sounded right.Dad, I'm in love with Nelson.Dad, Nelson, and I are together.Dad, please don't hate us.Nothing seems rightShe dragged herself downstairs at seven, and she found her father in the kitchen making pancakes—his Saturday tradition, even though it was Friday. He hummed an old hymn, completely at peace with the world.God, this was going to destroy him."Morning, sweetheart." He smiled, gestured with the spatula. "Hungry? Made your favourite blueberry."Her stomach twisted. "Maybe just toast.""You feeling okay? You look pale.""Didn't sleep well." The truth, at least partially.Her father flipped a pancake with practised ease. "I'm not surprised. This whole situation with Thomas has everyone on edge, but I have faith it'll work out. Truth always wins in
It's Thursday, but still, there were no reliefAyana spent the morning helping her mother prepare for the church's holiday outreach program, all while fielding passive-aggressive comments about loyalty, discretion, and the importance of supporting long-standing community members. "People are talking," her mother said, arranging donation boxes with sharp precision. "Saying you've been spending quite a bit of time at the centre and that you're very... invested in Nelson's welfare.""I volunteer there. Of course, I care about what happens.""There's caring, and there's.. Hmmm." Her mother paused, choosing her words carefully. "Appearing too involved. You're a young, single woman, and He's an older, unmarried man. People make assumptions, my darling."Ayana's heart hammered. "What kind of assumptions, mother?""The kind that damages reputations." Her mother's voice was sharp. "I'm just saying–be mindful of how things look for both your sakes."Before Ayana could respond, Catherine burst
Ayana woke to her mother's tense voice drifting up from the kitchen, and the phone pressed to her ear. "Yes, I understand people are upset, but Nelson wouldn't lie about something like this. He's the most honest man I know."A pause. Then, sharper: "Thomas Garrett has been your friend for thirty years, I understand that. But if the evidence is real—and the lawyers seem to think it is—then our loyalty should be to the truth, not to protecting reputations."Ayana dressed quickly, descended the stairs to find her mother at the kitchen table, coffee untouched, Bible open but unread. The phone sat beside her like a weapon."Morning," Ayana said carefully."Morning." Her mother looked up, exhaustion evident in the lines around her eyes. "That was the fourth call this morning. People demanding your father take a stand, either supporting Nelson or condemning him. Half the church wants Nelson's head. The other half wants Thomas Garrett arrested immediately.""What does Dad think?""Your father
Tuesday morning arrived with the weight of consequences.Ayana sat in the community centre's main room, helping a fifth-grader with fractions, trying to focus on anything except the closed-door meeting happening in the conference room. Nelson, Dr. Hayes, the board chair, and two lawyers had been in there for ninety minutes. Through the frosted glass, she could see shadows moving, gestures sharp with tension.He was doing it. Exposing Thomas Garrett. Blowing up his own careful world in the name of integrity.God, she loved him."Miss Ayana?" The student tugged her sleeve. "You're not listening.""Sorry, Marcus. You're right. Let's try this problem again."But her attention kept drifting to that conference room door. To the storm about to break.At eleven o'clock, the door opened. The lawyers emerged first, expressions grim and professional. Then the board chair—Mrs. Chen, a retired teacher with steel in her spine. Then Dr. Hayes, looking older and sadder. Finally, Nelson, his face carv







