The Girls Saga

by Kenni York

Genres: African American Urban; African American Women's Fiction; African American Romance

Synopsis

True friends are hard to come by, and even when you find them, it can be an all-or-nothing situation. Jada battles with being the glue that holds her group together, and she finds herself continuously stuck in the middle of her four girlfriends’ family and relationship drama. Together, the girls witness life and death, sticky situations, and the pros and cons of relationships. Their true dedication to their friendship is tried again and again, but there’s only so much a chick can take. Once each girl has reached her boiling point, there’s no telling who will get burned.
No one knows that some secrets can kill you better than Jada, Alex, Miranda, and Candace, who've lost one of their friends, Stephanie, following a heartbreaking betrayal. Now Stephanie’s boyfriend, Corey, is hitting the streets of Atlanta with a vengeance in an effort to get the haters that took his girlfriend’s life, all while trying to take back his title as the king of the hood.
 Stephanie may be dead now, but the secrets lingering between the rest of the crew seem to just keep piling up and coming to the forefront. What happens once the farce becomes too difficult to keep up? Whose secrets will be exposed, who will find themselves forced to make a deadly decision, and who will be the one to change everyone else’s lives forever? Friendship isn’t supposed to be this hard, but the moment that first betrayal occurs, no one’s feelings are safe.

Release date: December 27, 2016

Publisher: Urban Books

Print pages: 400

Sample

“This marriage is a sham,” Alex told her friends, her voice too loud to be considered a whisper, though she made every attempt to speak softly.

The woman sitting in front of Alex turned slightly, taking note of the person who had just made this rude comment.

Ever the polite, nice-nasty princess, Alex simply smiled and reiterated her belief. “This is a joke.”

The girls were situated in the second row of only five at an outdoor wedding venue. They were surrounded by beautiful, fragrant roses and white satin-covered folding chairs filled with family members, and the sun was preparing to set behind them. Opinionated Alex was seated between demure Jada and outspoken Stephanie. Jada nudged Alex’s left arm in an attempt to shut her up just as Stephanie sucked her teeth and nudged Alex’s right arm in agreement.

“You’re right,” Stephanie announced. “That Negro don’t make enough money for her. Soon as she finds somebody else with fatter pockets and a bigger dick, she’ll be ghost.”

Alex and Stephanie chuckled at their not-so-private joke, and Jada tried hard not to laugh.

“You two are incorrigible,” Jada stated, shaking her head and staring straight ahead.

Miranda, their other partner in crime, sat silently, looking toward the altar as one of her best friends was staring into the eyes of a chocolate teddy bear and pledging her life to him forever. Miranda Wilson-Cox was jealous. She envied Candace for having so quickly put together such an intimate and beautiful wedding. Perhaps too quickly, which was why she and the other girls weren’t part of the bridal party. There was no bridal party—just the bride and the groom. The wedding had been thrown together so fast that the loving couple had barely had time to pick out apparel and get fitted. There had been no time to assemble a bridal party.

The rose garden venue was the perfect choice for the springtime, outdoor wedding and was one of just a few available on such short notice. Candace’s wedding colors of white and silver were a beautiful contrast to the white and pink roses that adorned the area. And Candace was gorgeous in her A-line gown with the plunging neckline and back. A very sexy selection, one that Miranda was sure Candace’s parents were not too fond of.

As they sat among Candace and Quincy’s handful of friends and family, Alex, Stephanie, Jada, and Miranda watched as the couple commence their oneness with the ceremonial kiss. After the couple strolled down the aisle as husband and wife, the crowd dispersed and headed toward the banquet hall nearby for the reception. The girls sauntered over to a nearby gazebo, their designated meeting place, where they would catch up with Candace once she was done with taking pictures. As they chatted about the beauty of the gardens and the simplicity and elegance of the wedding, Miranda’s phone began to chime the familiar Nokia ring. Miranda rejected the call and checked the time.

“Who keeps blowing you up, girl?” Alex asked.

Miranda stuffed her cell phone into her purse, trying to appear nonchalant. “Norris,” she answered. “Trying to check up on me.”

Alex cocked her head to the side. “You not gon’ call him back?”

Miranda pursed her lips and shook her head.

“Well, shit. Tell him to stop calling,” Jada said, gazing over toward the ceremony area, where Candace and Quincy were posing for their wedding photos. “If he wanted to talk to you so bad, he shoulda come with you.”

“Girl, you know men don’t like going to weddings,” Stephanie interjected.

“He’ll be okay,” Miranda replied, silently planning to make a break for home as soon as Candace was done with her pictures. Norris had called her four times since she left home for the wedding. He’d been adamant about not wanting to accompany her. However, he’d been just as adamant about her returning home in time for him to meet up with his boys to play poker. Not wanting to risk pissing him off, Miranda thought it best to just wrap up her time with the girls and head home immediately.

As if sensing Miranda’s thoughts, across the garden Candace kissed Quincy on his lips before quickly sashaying her short brown frame toward her awaiting friends as the photographers moved their equipment to the banquet hall. She approached the gazebo, and instantly the girlfriends found themselves huddled together in a heartfelt embrace. Candace reveled in the spotlight, loving the attention.

“I did it, y’all,” she boasted, kicking off her diamond-studded stiletto heels. “I finally did it.”

“Finally?” Alex questioned. “Are you kidding me? You’ve known this man for all of two months, and you’ve married him. ‘I did it quickly,’ is what you should be saying.”

“Shut up.” Candace giggled. “Don’t hate.” She flashed them her modest 1.3 carat wedding band, smiling proudly.

Miranda forced a smile, fighting back the green monster in her that was reminding her that she no longer possessed a wedding band.

“So when are we getting drunk?” Stephanie was glad to be free of her five year old son and mother. Her mom had readily agreed to babysit knowing that Stephanie wouldn’t be on a date with the child’s father whom she despised.

“The real party goes down after my parents and our older family members leave,” Candace assured them. “They won’t be around long.”

The Nokia tune sounded again. All eyes went to Miranda as she fumbled to silence the small phone. “Sorry,” she offered.

“I know you do not have your cell on at my wedding, girlie.” Candace pouted. “Today is all about me. Tell that Negro you’ll see him later.”

The girls laughed, and Miranda shyly shook her head as she began to say her good-byes.

“Do you have to leave now?” Jada asked suspiciously.

“Yeah. Norris needs the car,” she explained.

As the others began to protest, Candace stood firm, supporting Miranda.

“It’s all right,” Candace said. “Hubby comes first.”

Alex rolled her eyes, already not feeling Candace’s fake happily married attitude.

“I’m just glad all my girls could be here with me. Y’all do understand why I didn’t have you as bridesmaids, right?”

Alex, Stephanie, Miranda, and Jada all nodded and waved off Candace’s apology.

“We just wanted to keep it simple,” Candace stated.

“It’s all right, girl,” Jada replied. “We understand.”

“I love y’all!”

The group embraced again, giggling at each other and feeling blissful in each other’s company. A moment later the others regretfully wished Miranda a safe ride home and then parted ways with the short, light-skinned woman.

Miranda trotted to her Nissan Maxima and began the journey home to her awaiting husband. She dreaded going home to him, never knowing what type of mood he would be in when she arrived. They had been married for a year now, yet Miranda felt like she didn’t really know Norris at all. Perhaps they hadn’t known each other well enough when they wedded. Miranda had been so swept up in the courting process that she had been blind to Norris’s shortcomings.

Fresh out of high school, Miranda had decided to visit her brother Malachi, who was in the Navy and was stationed in Virginia. During her summer vacation there, she’d met Norris on the naval base. He’d approached her, all mannish, telling her how fine she was and filling her head up. Having lived a somewhat sheltered life, despite growing up in the city of Atlanta with her parents, Miranda wasn’t used to such advances. She had rarely dated in high school and had never been in a serious relationship. She had never even come close to any type of physical encounter. She’d been surprised at herself when she allowed Norris to kiss her on the very first day that they met and then to take her virginity that very same night. At the time she’d thought it was romantic. He had taken her on a tour of the city and then back to his place, where they drank Belvedere mixed with cranberry juice. He proceeded to seduce her with his probing fingers and talented tongue. Never mind that she didn’t even know his last name on that first night, she was sexually free and decidedly in love.

Nose wide open and heart filled with a schoolgirl notion of love, Miranda moved to Virginia soon after attaching herself to Norris. She would cook and clean his off-base apartment during the day and allow him to ravish her body ruthlessly at night. It felt liberating to be away from her parents and to do whatever pleased her, or mostly whatever pleased Norris. It didn’t take long for her to convince Norris that they should get married. He never proposed to her directly. He simply shrugged and agreed when she approached him with the idea.

Their big day was the polar opposite of Candace’s ceremony. There were no fragrant roses, no lavish gown, no smiling friends and family to wish them well, and no lively reception to celebrate their union. The couple elected to exchange vows at their county courthouse, in the small, impersonal space of a judge’s chamber. It was a hasty decision, and so they had not even purchased rings. Miranda was simply excited about the addition of the title Mrs. to her name. The honeymoon period was short-lived, and just several weeks following their commitment, Miranda began to see Norris in a different light.

He was a difficult man, manic at best. When he was happy, times were good. He’d joke around, make her laugh, and make love to her. When he was down, he made sure Miranda was down as well. He belittled her around company, ignored her when she tried to communicate, and was unpleasantly rough when he decided to have sex with her. There were even times when he would leave and not return home for days. Miranda never complained about this to her friends back home or her parents, because she never wanted to hear them say that she should never have married so young.

It was Norris’s antics that forced the couple to relocate to Atlanta. Shortly before he was due to ship out on tour, Norris found himself in a dangerous bar fight. Drunk, high, and belligerent, he’d pulled a knife on a senior officer, a move that ultimately led to him being dishonorably discharged from the U.S. Navy. Disheartened and desperate, Miranda had pleaded with her parents to allow her and her husband to stay with them until the couple was able to get back on their feet.

In Virginia, Miranda hadn’t worked. In Atlanta, she knew that it would take two incomes for them to repair their lives and become self-sufficient. But instead of them both obtaining employment, Miranda ended up working two jobs while Norris sat home drinking, smoking, and hanging out with his buddies. It was not exactly the life she had imagined for herself. Once they were finally in a place of their own, Miranda got up the nerve to complain about his lack of ambition and their dire need for money. Norris reacted by scolding her. He accused her of doubting him as a man and being an unsupportive wife. When he was really mad, he would throw things around or hit the furniture or walls with his fist. Not wanting to feel the impact of his ferociousness, Miranda would never continue on with the argument, electing instead to walk away and leave him to deal with his own raging emotions.

No one really liked Norris. Not her parents, not her friends. But despite their blatant disapproval of the man, he was still her husband. Miranda always tried to focus on the good in their relationship. She’d felt a small ray of hope when Norris finally found employment at a body shop. Not only had they been able to move into their own apartment, but now they were also able to purchase a Maxima. For that, Miranda was grateful. Riding MARTA for two hours just to get somewhere that was only fifteen minutes away was not fun. Sure they shared the car, which was purchased in her name, but it was better than relying on public transit.

However, with more money in his possession, Norris developed a new bad habit, gambling. He was an avid poker player and would bet on a sports game in a minute. He lost more than he won, but that was not enough to discourage him. Rather than complain, Miranda tried to overlook this additional shortcoming. And she kept a private bank account, into which her paychecks were direct deposited, in order to ensure that Norris didn’t smoke or gamble away their rent money.

Pulling into her usual spot in front of their Shoals Crossing apartment building, Miranda sighed. She wished she was back in the beautiful atmosphere of the rose garden with her girls instead of in the stifling environment of her unhappy home. Not looking forward to seeing Norris, who was sure to be in a foul mood, Miranda dragged herself up the stairs to her second-floor apartment. As she walked through the door, she could smell the aroma of marijuana lingering in the air. She’d asked him a million times not to smoke in the house, as if he ever listened.

“’Bout time.” She heard his voice boom from the back of the apartment.

Placing her keys on the coffee table, Miranda plopped down on the ash-gray couch and watched as Norris emerged from the bedroom. She took in his appearance: sagging jeans, like he was a high school kid, black tee with matching plain black baseball cap, and the requisite black Air Force Ones. He was short for a man—five feet, seven inches—and thin. His dark skin was a perfect contrast to her lighter skin. It was his beautiful white teeth that made the man’s face light up. But tonight he wasn’t smiling.

“What took yo’ ass so long?” he snapped, grabbing up the car keys. “Told you I had somewhere to go.”

“That’s why I’m back, Norris,” she responded, leaning back and shutting her eyes, willing him to just leave.

“Yo’ girl all good and married?”

Miranda nodded.

She heard him walk into the kitchen. The sound of the cabinet door opening and closing resounded throughout the otherwise quiet house. Norris poured himself a drink of something and then threw his cup carelessly into the sink.

“Still don’t know who the hell would marry her gold-digging ass. She looks like an ant.”

Miranda peeked with one eye open, catching only his back as he moved to exit the apartment. She was astonished by his gall. If only he knew the names the girls used to describe him. Miranda smirked to herself and glanced over at the clock on the VCR. Seven p.m. In fifteen more hours she would have to rise to get ready for her part-time job at Rainbow clothing store. She worked only every other weekend and had been reluctant to give up this Saturday for the wedding. Realizing that Norris hadn’t told her when he’d be back, Miranda hopped off the couch and ran to the door. As she swung it open, the house phone began to ring.

Leaning over the railing, she called down to her husband in the parking lot. “Norris! Norris, when will you be back?” She watched as he slammed the car door shut and revved the engine. “Norris!”

Unfazed, Norris backed out of the parking spot and tore through the maze of the complex to hit the street.

Miranda sucked her teeth and scurried back into her home. The phone was still ringing. Absentminded, she answered without checking the caller ID.

“Hello?”

Instantly the line went dead. Stunned, Miranda plopped down on the couch again and pressed the END button on the cordless. As an afterthought, she clicked the CALLER ID button to see who the rude caller was. The number was foreign to her. The name on the screen was Tamara Williams. What the fuck? An uneasy feeling crept into her heart. Something didn’t feel right.

Stephanie entered her mother’s home and was greeted by Ms. Johnson, who was peddling breathlessly on the exercise bike she kept in the living room, in front of the television. Stephanie kicked her shoes off and walked past her mom and into the kitchen.

“How was the wedding?” Ms. Johnson asked as she peddled away.

“It was nice,” she offered in response.

Stephanie didn’t want to hear her mom rant and rave about how accomplished Candace or any of her girlfriends were. Ms. Johnson had been so elated to hear that Candace was marrying someone and not just sleeping with him or shacking up. She constantly reminded Stephanie of how disappointed she was in her for being an unwed mother. Stephanie had never heard the end of it after she confessed to her mother that she was pregnant during her very first and only semester at Morris Brown.

Even though the incident was nearly four years in the past, Stephanie remembered it as if it were just yesterday. Ms. Johnson had informed her that she had ruined her life and had asked her if it was her desire to be a welfare mother. Stephanie had been forced to quit college in November of 2001, after she found out that she was expecting. Her mother had made it perfectly clear that the baby would be Stephanie’s responsibility and that she was not about to support her and her unborn child. With no other alternative, Stephanie had to get a job. Luckily, she had an aunt who managed to pull some strings and got her hired as a librarian assistant at a DeKalb County library. The pay was decent, and the hours were good. To her surprise, and much to her benefit, Stephanie’s mother never kicked her out of the house. But she was adamant that the young woman would pull her own weight.

Ms. Johnson got over the fact that her only child had gotten pregnant at a young age and at the start of her collegiate career. In fact, when Damien was born, she was right beside Stephanie, ever the proud grandmother. What really infuriated Ms. Johnson was Stephanie’s relationship with Damien’s father. Corey Polk was every mother’s nightmare. He was five years older than Stephanie and was a thug, in Ms. Johnson’s opinion. Corey lived in their neighborhood and was known as one of the neighborhood hustlers. Four years ago he would have been found on any corner near or around Line Street in Decatur. Like all the other misguided brothers of his generation, he made his money in the streets.

It was Corey’s persistence that had drawn Stephanie to him. She’d seen him around the way for years, and he had frequently made advances toward her. No matter how many times she’d said no, he’d never backed down. Sure, she’d dated some guys, and she’d even had sex with a few before Corey.

But there was something about this man that made her throw all caution aside. She loved him for reasons even she couldn’t understand. She knew he was the neighborhood weed man. But she also knew that no one else had ever made her feel beautiful and wanted the way he did. Stephanie couldn’t understand how someone she loved so much could hurt her so badly. When she had told Corey she was pregnant, his initial reaction was typical.

“That can’t be my kid,” he’d told her. “How I know you ain’t been fucking around?”

She’d gone to his mother’s house, where he was living at the time. She thought telling him face-to-face would be kinder than telling him over the phone. They were alone in his room. She was greasing his scalp, with him sitting between her legs. When she mentioned that she was pregnant, he quickly jumped up from the floor and glared down at her small frame. An argument erupted, and they called each other all types of four-letter words. Ultimately, he told her to leave. They didn’t speak for several weeks. During that time, Ms. Johnson never missed an opportunity to say, “I told you so.” Unable to deal with the silence or Corey’s absence in her life, Stephanie ventured over to his mother’s house one day after work. It was then that she learned that he was no longer living there. Feeling hopeless with regards to a reconciliation, Stephanie simply left a message with his mom for him to call her.

Two more weeks passed, and he finally called from an unknown number. He spoke to her as if nothing had happened, as if they’d just spoken the day before. When she told him that she had to quit school and didn’t know if she’d be able to return, he seemed disinterested. He was too excited about his own news, which was that he had gotten his own place over in Midtown. It was a one-bedroom luxury apartment in a Gables community. Stephanie didn’t ask him how he was able to afford such lavish accommodations. She was simply hurt that he did not ask her to move in with him.

Still, they rekindled their relationship. He succumbed and gave her his new cell number. Every so often, he stopped by her house to hang out. Ms. Johnson was never pleased by his visits, so Stephanie began to visit Corey at his place after work most evenings during the week. On the weekends she would spend the night.

“That boy is never going to marry you,” her mother warned her one Sunday night, when she strolled in late from a weekend visit. By this time her belly was swollen, and she was beginning to tire from the weight of the pregnancy. She ignored her mother’s comment, feeling that things between her and Corey were going great.

Secretly, she prayed that he would hurry up and ask her to move in so that she could escape her mother’s disapproving glares and hurtful comments. Stephanie reasoned that he just didn’t want them to be crammed into the one-bedroom unit and that he was waiting until he could afford a bigger place. But just when she was feeling good about their relationship, Corey withdrew again. He would go days, sometimes weeks, without calling. He cut their visits down to the point where she rarely got to see him, let alone have sex with him. He advised her never to just show up to his place without his permission, and she respected that.

Stephanie realized that any other chick would have just left him alone, but she just couldn’t bring herself to give up on him. Not even when he missed the birth of their son, not even when he failed to put in an appearance at the hospital when she experienced complications following Damien’s birth, and not even when he neglected to pitch in with caring for the infant. Corey came around when he was ready, never mind what Stephanie or Damien needed. He often told her that he loved her, and she wanted more than anything to believe him. Their relationship continued on in this same manner. She never really knew when she would see him or hear from him, but she was always pathetically eager to receive him when she did.

As of today, two days had passed since his last call. He’d told her that he wanted to go to the movies tonight, after she returned from Candace’s wedding, and that he would call her back to confirm. Stephanie poured herself a glass of juice and wondered if she should change into something cute or into her pajamas. Walking back into the living room, she saw her mother abandon the exercise bike, mopping her face.

“Was it pretty?” her mother asked, panting.

Stephanie didn’t want to talk about the wedding. She shrugged her mother off and headed toward her room. “It was all right.”

“Mmm-hmm,” Ms. Johnson responded. “And don’t be going back there, messing with that child. He’s already had his bath and is sleeping like a log.”

Stephanie tiptoed into her bedroom and quickly shut her door behind her in an attempt to ward off any further conversation with her mother. Damien lay sprawled across her queen-size bed, arms and legs everywhere. In his SpongeBob pajamas, he was precious. Stephanie eased onto the bed, struggled to straighten his body, and then covered him with his favorite Elmo blanket. She kissed his forehead, and the child didn’t budge. She marveled over how much he favored Corey, with his fair brown skin and somewhat slanted eyes. Damien was a beautiful child, and Stephanie couldn’t imagine what her life would be like without him.

The phone rang, interrupting her thoughts. She grabbed it quickly, not wanting her mom to complain about the late-night call. Besides, she was sure it was Corey calling to see if she wanted to catch the last show of the night at the AMC.

“Hello,” she answered, putting on her sexy voice to entice him to take part in the event that he was calling to cancel.

“This is the Fulton County Police Department with a collect call from—”

“Corey.” Stephanie’s heart plummeted.

“Will you accept the charges?”

“Yes,” she answered without thinking. “Hello?”

“What’s up, baby?”

She hated how he was acting like there was nothing unusual about this situation. “You tell me,” she countered.

“I got a problem. . . .”

“Clearly.”

“Look, I need you to come get me. You got some money?”

“Not much . . . How much are we talking?”

“Two hundred.”

Stephanie looked over at her sleeping son and caressed his head. “I don’t have that, Corey,” she said softly. “Don’t you have it somewhere?”

“Yeah, but that ain’t helping me, ’cause you can’t get to it,” he replied with attitude. “Look, get up what you can. I’ll get it back to you ASAP.”

He wasn’t asking; he was ordering her. And Stephanie knew she would do whatever he said. Getting up to change into some jeans, she sighed.

“Okay. I’ll be down there.”

“Don’t take forever, man,” he complained. “Okay?”

“Okay. But what happened, Corey?”

“It ain’t nothing.”

“It ain’t nothing?” Her voice was a little muffled as she switched the phone to her other ear in order to slip off the dress she’d worn to the wedding. This trip to the county jail warranted jeans and a T-shirt versus her semiformal look.

“Just come on.”

He disconnected the line, and Stephanie simply pressed FLASH and dialed the first number that came to mind.

“Hello?”

“Hey, girl. It’s Steph. I need a favor.”

A relaxing vacation on a beautiful beach on a tropical island with fruity drinks and half-naked waiters attending to her every need would have been nice. Instead, it was business as usual as Candace sat at her desk in the downtown Decatur law firm. Would these phones ever stop ringing? Everyone was surprised that she was returning to work after just having gotten married this past Saturday. Ideally, a honeymoon would have been nice. Realistically, she knew that she had to show up to work, because the bills weren’t going to pay themselves, and since she’d already used her vacation time earlier in the year to cope with family issues, there was no paid vacation time in sight for her.

Lost in her thoughts, Candace ignored the ringing phone. As she stared into space, she thought of the splendor of her wedding ceremony and reception. She was sure that her girls had been envious of her on Saturday. She was finally married, and she had done it in style while on a budget. Her parents, on the other hand, were probably still livid with her for running off with Quincy in the first place. At least we got married, she thought. They had to give her some credit for that.

Candace’s relationship with her parents was strained at best. Just a couple of years ago, she’d been living in their house and struggling to abide by their rules. Mr. and Mrs. Lewis were strict parents. They were also very disciplined Jehovah’s Witnesses. They expected their children to walk in the same faith as they did and to practice Jehovah’s teachings and commandments in all aspects of their lives. Additionally, Mr. Walter Lewis, a high school assistant principal, was big on education. His hope for his girls was that they would excel academically throughout high school and then strive to graduate magna cum laude from college.

While growing up, Candace could never meet their expectations. By her senior year of high school, she simply stopped trying. She stopped studying constantly, causing her grade point average to slide downward. To her, a C was just fine, since she was never able to surpass a B+ when she did try harder. Feeling like she was missing out on fun, Candace started hanging out more with her girlfriends. At times she would sneak out to meet a guy for a date. Her parents were against dating, even when she was eighteen. They claimed that they wanted her and her younger sister, Amelia, to stay focused on what was most important. Candace loved her parents, but when she was in high school, she felt as if she had outgrown their old-school frame of mind.

She met Quincy just one year after graduation. At the time she’d been working as a part-time receptionist at the law firm for half a year. The pay was decent enough to cover her personal needs and her car note, but unfortunately, she was still living with her parents and their strict rules. Quincy Lawson was a simple mail clerk at a federal building in downtown Atlanta. Candace met him at a convenience store near his job when she was out with her girlfriends one Saturday. She accepted his number only because she didn’t know if she’d need him one day, be it to cover a meal or foot the bill for a shopping expenditure or two. It was superficial, but she took note of his clean black 2003 Impala. Candace assumed that the man had money. Physically, she was not completely attracted to him. He was a little thick for her taste, but he could definitely dress. At twenty-five, Quincy also owned his own home. Candace was impressed by this.

For several months she dated Quincy, sneaking out and lying to her parents about where she was going. Eventually, they caught on and decided to teach her a lesson. She’d gone over to Quincy’s one night, just to hang out. Of course, they had sex and Candace accidently fell asleep afterward. When she finally awoke, it was two in the morning. She shook Quincy awake, and he took her home, where she discovered that the door was locked. She had a key, but it didn’t seem to work. Candace was confuse