Page 35 of The Princess and the P.I.

The next evening, Fiona, Esi, and her father sat over bowls of steaming pepper soup bought from a Nigerian take-out place.

No one ate. Fiona’s mind kept going back to that photo.

How did Kwesi know Sara? Why did he hate her so much?

Had he cut her eyes out? Sara was the key to everything.

Fiona knew with single-minded intensity that what they learned from Sara would solve the case.

But she was impossible to find. And Maurice’s patience was running out.

“How is your practice, Esi?” Kofi asked through clenched teeth, like the very act of making small talk was painful.

“Everyone is sick. How is your congregation? Same?” Esi said behind a plastered plastic smile. Fiona was glued to her phone, pulling the strings on all the social media spiderwebs she had placed to catch Sara.

The table was circular, but no matter where her father sat, it always seemed to be the head of the table. He waved a hand over her phone.

“Fiona,” Kofi began. “I’ve been seeking counsel about your case.”

“Who? First Thessalonians? If it ain’t legal counsel, it won’t do anything,” Esi said, not even glancing up from her phone.

Kofi’s palm slapped the table so hard the dishes rattled.

“I will not have your blasphemous tongue in my house!”

Fiona forced her shoulders back. Do not shrink.

“As I was saying,” Kofi continued, voice strained, “I’ve been seeking counsel. A friend at the church—”

“No,” Esi cut in sharply. “It’s David, it’s always been David, and the answer is always no.”

What happened to Fiona standing up for herself? Esi was ready to fight her little sister’s battles on instinct.

Kofi continued. “He is offering—”

“No.” Esi’s voice was louder this time, vibrating with what sounded like shame.

“It’s not worth it, Dad. I’m not…” Esi trailed off.

“Fiona, it’s another one of Dad’s little setups.

David finally bags Ms.Obedience three years running.

I won’t let you just to arrange some sick trade.

Sacrifice Fiona for the church’s good standing—again. ”

“Not for the church, for herself!” Kofi’s voice thundered like the Lord himself. Only Esi could enrage her father like this.

“Oh, Fiona, see how your dad loves you! Protects you? Eiii D for daben ?”

“He’s a respected man,” Kofi said, switching to Twi in frustration. “He says Robert Thorpe’s wife is a recent convert. We can appeal to her memory, her discernment. They may even drop the theft charges.”

Fiona did not want to go to jail. She did not want to lie under David counting until it was all over either. They had to get a break in the case. Soon.

“David has always admired you and asks for an exploratory date.”

“There you go!” Esi slammed the table.

Do not shrink.

“Esi. Dad.” Fiona’s voice was sharper than she intended, and both her father’s and sister’s heads snapped toward her.

Good. She breathed out shakily. I didn’t know I could do that.

“None of this matters,” she continued. “Maurice and I will solve this. And present our evidence to the public defender. That was my plan two months ago, it’s my plan now—”

Just then she saw a shadow flicker by her window.

Fiona shook her head. Probably nothing.

“Fiona, where did that big voice come from? A new throat comes with the criminal charges?” Esi said, “No, because this is what I mean. She was caught half-naked stealing, and you are still finding a way to make it go away.”

“Wait, I thought you were on my side?” Fiona twisted her neck to her sister.

“Do you think you are on the right side of anything?” Esi sneered. “I caught you pretending to have a husband last night. You let an absolute tomcat in your bed, and there is no way you can rationalize that.”

“Esi, I am twenty-eight.”

“Fiona, please, hush.” Kofi stood rigid, his fists opening and closing at his sides. He looked, and this was impossible, but he looked indecisive.

“Esi can talk by heart, and I have to hush?”

Their father didn’t respond. His eyes were fixed on the window now too. Another flash of movement. A dark shape, sliding too smoothly along the edge of the yard.

“There’s somebody out there,” she mouthed. Fiona stood, moving to the window, peering out into the encroaching night. For a moment, she saw nothing but the familiar outlines of their yard. Then a shadow detached itself from the darkness, moving swiftly toward the house.

“Dad, Esi, get away from the windows.” Fiona barked it like a command.

The window crashed open, spewing fast-moving glass across the room. A wobbling rock or brick flew through the house, flying end over end like a spiraling satellite.

“Esi, get Dad to the basement,” Fiona said. “Now!”

The brick landed with a heavy thud on the stairs, splintering the banister wood and rocking to a stop with a white note fluttering in the air-conditioning.

For a moment, they all just stared at the brick.

Fiona stepped forward, but her father pushed her back and picked up the brick to detach the note.

The paper was crumpled and stained, but the message was written in bleeding black marker.

“?‘Hate the sin not the sinner,’?” her father said. As he read, the color drained from his face, his expression twisted to a bizarre, crazed hopefulness.

“He’s alive.” The note shook in Kofi’s hands. “I stayed faithful. My righteous anger had been a tool of the Lord’s, and now he’s come back.”

“Dad!” Esi looked horrified and a little scared.

“These are the last words I spoke to my son.”