Page 117 of The Deadly Candies

* * *

The bakery hummedwith the brittle cheer of customers who came to stare but not speak. Kathy moved behind the counter like a ghost in her own life—smiling politely at women who sniffed and turned away, folding napkins with hands that wanted to tremble but wouldn’t give them the satisfaction.

Debbie hip-checked her as a cluster of girls from their high school days slid into a corner booth, their giggles sharp as broken glass. "Don’t let it crawl under your skin," she muttered, slamming a tray of éclairs down hard enough to make the cackling hens jump. "These heifers know better than to say shit to your face."

Two of the girls heard. Their laughter stuttered, then doubled—performative, cruel—before they flounced out, noses tilted skyward.

Ely emerged from the stockroom, arms laden with flour sacks. His eyes cut to Kathy, then away. Pity lived there, crouched behind his careful neutrality. They’d been cordial since Brooklyn, two strangers sharing a life they no longer recognized.

"Hey." Debbie caught Kathy’s wrist. "Let’s take five."

"I’m fine?—"

"Bullshit." Debbie dragged her toward the storage room—the one place Kathy had avoided since coming into the bakery. The door clicked shut behind them, sealing them in the dim, flour-dusted space. Kathy’s lungs locked. The attic door loomed above them like a guillotine.

"Itoldyou I didn’t want to come in?—”

"And that’s why we’re here." Debbie crossed her arms, her belly a subtle curve beneath her apron. "You’ve been walking around like your shadow’s too heavy since Brooklyn. Whathappened?"

Kathy’s throat burned. The memories surged—Carmelo’s hands in her hair when she slept, the scent of sweat and attic dust as they held each other close because it was cold. The way the world had narrowed to justthemwhile Harlem burned to find them below. One choice led to another—choices she made based on feelings, not sensibility. One yes turned into another. That’s all it took to unravel everything she had ever known.

Did she regret loving him?Never.

But watching her father—herbig, invincibledaddy—laugh again, hug her without hesitation, kiss her mother’s neck when he thought no one was looking… It gutted her. She’d gambled their happiness for her own. And now Ely’s words festered:Bumpy’s watching. Your daddy’s desperate. You’re selfish.

"Kathy?" Debbie’s voice softened. "Talk to me."

"Ain’t no explaining," Kathy whispered. "I’m damned either way."

Debbie’s hand drifted to her stomach—a habit now, though the pregnancy barely showed. That small, secret joy. Kathy’s vision blurred.Why her? Why Debbie? Why not me?The thought erupted before she could cage it:

"Why you?!"

Debbie recoiled.

"I was the one who fell in love!Me!You called Carmelo every name under the sun, hated everything about him and italians—so why doyouget the pretty life? The baby, the man, therespect? Why am I the one being shipped back to Mississippi like damaged goods while Harlem treats me like some back-alley Jezebel?!"

Debbie’s eyes glistened, but she didn’t let the tears fall. "You think my life’spretty?" Her laugh was a razor. "My mama looks at me like I’m her greatest disappointment. She used to walk into church like she owned the pews—now she flinches when the deacon’s wife whispers—how is Debbie?We ain’t like you and Aunt Brenda. We clawed our way up from nothing, and Iruinedit." She pressed a fist to her mouth. "But I’ll bedamnedif my baby comes into this world thinking he’s a mistake. I have to atone for trying to kill my child. That’s why I smile and rejoice. My baby is inside of me. It’ll know the truth if I don’t.”

Kathy rushed to comfort her, their arms tangling like vines. Debbie’s shoulders shook as she released deep sobs.

"I’m sorry," Kathy choked. "I didn’t mean?—"

"I know." Debbie gripped her tighter. "But we made our choices, Kathy. Ain’t no undoing ‘em."

Kathy held her and spoke softly. "Ely says Daddy’s sending me back ‘cause Bumpy threatened him. That he’s scared of losing Mama if he agrees, but there is no way to fight it." She swallowed. "He wants me tomarryEly. Get pregnant, fast. Come back like nothing happened."

Debbie's hand slammed against the shelf. "Ely's talking straight out his country ass! Your daddy made King Redmond himself think twice before crossing 125th. Nobody-not Bumpy, not those Sicilian bastards gonna touch Henry Freeman’s daughter while he's still breathing."

"Daddy told Ely to marry me. Get me pregnant. Bring me back 'proper.' That is the only way.”

The color drained from Debbie's face. "Jesus, Kathy...you can't?—"

"I gotta keep my family safe!" Kathy's voice cracked like overbaked glaze. "Carmelo says to go south and lay low while Matteo moves on some scheme they’re cooking up. Says he'll come for me when—I guess whenever convenient for him.”

“He didn’t say that,” Debbie sighed.

“It felt like that’s what he meant,” Kathy countered.

---