Alani wasn’t one to beg, but as she sat in the front row of the church, she knew she had no choice but to accept the donations from the congregation. She was appreciative for their generosity. They barely knew her. They saw her face on Easter and New Year’s Eve. The rest of the year, she was missing in action. She doubted if anyone in the pews even remembered her name. That’s how inactive she was. She watched the members rise from their seats to donate to the basket sitting next to her daughter and brother’s pictures. It made her feel so loved. She had never understood the purpose of church. She believed her relationship with God was personal. That she could be spiritual without subscribing to the expectations that man put on religion, but seeing the support she was receiving made her understand the purpose of the church. They’re treating me like family. Some of them can’t keep a roof over their own heads and their giving to me so freely, she thought, wiping the tears from her face. She was so overwhelmed that all she could do was grip Nannie’s hand.

“Church family, give from your heart. This young mother must bury her brother, bury her dear daughter. Let’s wrap our arms around her, Mt. Pisgah. Let’s lift her up. Let’s renew her spirit and let her know that in this darkest time the devil will not win. Give from your hearts, church.”

Alani’s chest heaved, she was crying so hard. She was so sick of crying, so damn exhausted from wailing every day, all day. Why can’t I just stop? She thought. The wails just kept coming from the pits of her, from the bottoms of her that she didn’t know could carry hurt. That shit was spilling out of her. Nobody but a mother who had lost a child could relate. She had ripped herself open to give birth to that baby girl, and she had been robbed of a lifetime of unconditional love. She was not only shattered, she was mad as fucking hell. She wanted justice. What type of monster could kill a kid? She thought.

“We have a representative from the funeral home who would like to say a few words,” the pastor announced. Alani looked up to see Mr. Masters walking down the aisle. He took the mic and looked at her.

“Ms. Hill, we at Masters Funeral Home would like to extend our deepest condolences. We are so very sorry for your loss. A generous benefactor, anonymously, donated $30,000 to go toward the burials of your loved ones. We would like to present this check to you and your family.”