18. Street royalty

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Grace studied her mothers face, glaring at her from across the kitchen table where they sat. The fresh cups of coffee Emily brewed for the both of them sat cooling on the polished oak table top, steam rising into the early morning air. The home was dim with just enough light pouring in from the open windows as the sun began to rise and birds sang tunes to each other from within the trees outside.

Grace could hardly sleep last night because all she could think of was how she was going to confront her mother as soon as the sun traded places with the moon. Clad in a fluffy white robe and matching house shoes with her curly brown hair tied into a messy bun on top of her head, Emily scrolled through the article still half asleep reading through puffy eyes. Part of Emily was angry because she didn't want to have to go through this with Grace, she didn't want to have to relive this with her daughter but the other part of her realized she couldn't be upset with Grace. This is her father, she deserved to know the truth about the man he was. They wouldn't be sitting here at this moment if Emily would've just came clean years ago.

Emily swallowed hard, setting the phone down onto the table. " Drink your coffee before it gets cold," She said, trying to buy time to be able to think of what to say.

" I don't want the coffee. I went to the records office and requested to pull my daddy's death certificate and they said they didn't have it— actually, they said they didn't have any record of a Richard Jones at all," Grace said in a confronting manner, crossing her arms over her chest and glaring at her mother.

Emily tilted her head to the side slightly. " I don't get what you're trying to say?"

" Is my dad really dead?"

Emily clenched her jaw, closing her eyes and inhaling sharply before exhaling. She was tired of hearing Grace question if Richard was truly dead or not. With the amount of pain and grief Emily went through after losing Richard it was almost disrespectful for Grace to even question that.

" Grace do you hear yourself? I told you last time you asked me don't fix your lips to ever ask that again! Do you know the amount of pain I went through losing your father? Your father is dead Grace Jesus Christ!" Emily snapped getting up from the table.

Grace closed her mouth, sitting back in her seat quietly. No matter how old she got she still felt like a scolded child whenever her mother yelled at her. A few moments later the sound of Emily's house slippers scrapping against the tile echoed throughout the large quiet home as she re-entered the kitchen with a folded up piece of paper setting it down rather roughly in front of Grace. " Is that enough? Or do we have to go get your father ashes exhumed too?" Emily asked, her tone harsh.

Emily stood over Grace's shoulder as she unfolded the death certificate reading the piece of paper dating back to 1998, the year after Grace was born like her mother had said— his cause of death, multiple gunshot wounds to the body.

Grace slowly folded up the piece of paper feeling bad for questioning if her father was truly dead or not because she knew it struck a nerve in her mother. It just didn't make any sense why the records office at the department didn't have his death certificate but maybe Joseph was right, it had been almost thirty years since he passed. The document could have easily gotten lost or misfiled.

" I don't know why the records office at the department doesn't have your fathers death certificate but that is it right there Grace. I may have kept things a secret from you but I have never lied to you and I would never lie to you about your father not being here," Emily said, retaking her spot in the kitchen chair across the table from Grace. " You will never understand just how much your daddy loved you because you didn't get to experience it yourself so I'm telling you, he would've never let anything get in the way of watching you grow into the woman you are today if he could help it. He was taken from us, he didn't have a choice," Emily said sternly.

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