Terrence laughed.
Not a funny laugh. A bitter laugh.
“In this family, men are not the problem,” he said. “You hear me? Men are not the problem.”
And right on time, the phone rang.
Terrence glanced at the screen and answered immediately.
“Hey, Mama.”
Nyla didn’t even need speakerphone to hear Ivonne’s voice. That woman’s voice was loud enough to travel through walls.
“What’s wrong with her now?” Ivonne demanded.
Terrence looked at Nyla while talking to his mother, like Nyla wasn’t even human.
“She went to a clinic,” he said. “And now she’s saying I should get tested.”
There was a pause.
Then Ivonne exploded.
“Tested?” she shouted. “Terrence, don’t let that woman embarrass you. She’s trying to shift blame because she knows she’s the problem.”
Nyla’s fingers curled into her palm.
Ivonne’s voice kept coming, sharp and proud.
“She’s big, Terrence. Big women have problems. Don’t let her bring shame on you.”
Terrence nodded like Ivonne was preaching truth.
Then he looked at Nyla and delivered the verdict.
“We’re not doing no tests. End of discussion.”
And Nyla realized the paper meant nothing in that house.
Facts meant nothing. Truth meant nothing.
Only pride mattered.
Two weeks passed.
