Chapter 9

**Thelma**

I picked up an orange scarf from my closet and wrapped it around my neck before heading out of my room. I went downstairs to find my parents since it was Sunday and still a little after 10 AM.

As I descended into the living room, I heard my father's voice speaking to my mother. When I stepped in, they halted their conversation upon noticing my footsteps. I stood there, frozen like a sacrificial lamb waiting to be slaughtered.

"Good afternoon, Dad, Mom..." I nervously greeted them, sensing the tension in the room. My dad looked at me and responded, "Good morning, Thelma. Aren't you going to church today?"

"No, Dad," I sighed in relief, thinking he might reprimand me for my actions two days prior. Instead, he smiled, which piqued my curiosity about why he seemed so cheerful. Rather than glaring at me for bringing shame upon him, I commented, "I already prayed to God in my room, Dad."

"That's alright, Thelma. So, where are you off to? You look all dressed up," Dad asked. Blushi