9

Thelma.

I picked up an orange scarf from my closet and wrapped it around my neck before walking out of my room. I went downstairs to the living room to find my parents. It was Sunday, and the time was still after 10 am.

As I descended the stairs into our living room, I heard my father's voice speaking to my mother. I met their gazes as they stopped discussing upon hearing my footsteps. I stood frozen, feeling tense, like a sacrificial lamb waiting to be slaughtered.

"Good morning, Dad, Mom," I nervously greeted my parents. I could feel the tension in the living room as my dad stared at me. He responded, "Good morning, Thelma. Aren't you going to church today?"

"No, Dad," I breathed out in relief. I had feared my dad would reprimand me because of what had happened the day before, which was Friday. But to my surprise, Dad was smiling at me, sparking my curiosity. Instead of scolding me for the incident that occurred on Friday, he seemed pleased. I said, "I have already prayed to God