Betrayed - By Suzetta Perkins Page 0,11

letdown as the Fayetteville State Broncos trounced the Eagles 36-14.

MIMI LOOKED AGAIN AT THE MESSAGE SHE HAD RECEIVED FROM Afrika. Her stomach was in knots. She didn’t know what to make of the cryptic message. What if she had learned something about her? Mimi shut her mind down and deleted the thoughts she conjured in her head.

7

Early Monday morning, Victor hurried to his office and closed the door. Without taking a breath, he turned on his computer and tapped impatiently on his desk until he was prompted to log in. He immediately hit the keyboard, typing in commands while waiting for a response. His brain waves accelerated like someone had pushed the ON button of a blender to high, but slowed only a little as soon as he was logged into the Banner system that gave access to student records and other aspects of the school’s internal system.

Victor’s fingers raced across the keys and went into search mode. When prompted, he typed in Bailey, Africa.

Curses flew from Victor’s mouth when he was unable to bring up Afrika’s name. He tried Bailey, Nikki, but without success. He typed in Bailey once more, and then typed in Afr—what he believed to be the first three letters of her name. “Bingo.” Victor hit his desk with his hand—a look of success written on his face.

Scrolling down the screen, Afrika’s information transformed before his eyes. At last, the information he was seeking stared back at him. He digested it for a minute and then grabbed a pen and a piece of paper and jotted down the address for Setrina Bailey.

“Right here in Durham,” Victor said to himself. “Well, we’ll see for how long.”

Victor stared at the screen a few minutes longer, scrolling backward for no apparent reason. And then he saw Afrika’s birthdate—almost two weeks to the day of Asia’s.

A frown, then a scowl replaced the smirk on Victor’s face. At first it was a mere thought—Asia and Afrika’s resemblance to each other so uncanny, their height, the way they wore their hair. But dates say something else. They are markers; place markers for events at a certain time and place. He had to know for sure.

Eight forty-five. It was too early to leave the office without a valid reason. If he could hold himself together until eleven-thirty, maybe his anxiety would decrease. It was going to be a long three hours.

At exactly eleven-thirty, Victor rose from his seat and placed the piece of paper with the address on it in his pocket. Outside of his office sat his secretary, who was obviously gossiping, her voice a hushed whisper that every now and then let out a, “Girl, you’re telling a lie.” Victor paused momentarily at his secretary’s desk and waited for her to finish her personal conversation. Agitated, he rapped his knuckles on her desk. She jumped and the telephone fell from her hands as she finally lifted her head and saw her boss standing in front of her.

“Mr. Christianson, what can I do for you?”

“Sheila, I’m going out for an extended lunch. If I’m not back by one-fifteen, call my one-thirty appointment and reschedule. And remember, you’re on company time.”

Sheila smirked and batted her eyes. “Okay, Mr. Christianson. I’ll see you later.”

Victor hurried to his car. Without another thought, he took out the piece of paper in his pocket and keyed the address into his navigation system. He backed the black Mercedes convertible coupe out of its space and barreled out of the parking lot. The voice of the navigation guide irritated him, but the instructions made it an easy ride.

The prospect of seeing Mimi again caused him a bit of anxiety, but the trip was a must and couldn’t wait a minute longer. He had long since forgotten the fateful event that had sent Mimi running. Although he didn’t know for sure that Afrika was the result of his assault on Mimi, he felt it in every creak of his bones. And he was going to get his answer today. The question was what he was going to do if the information he received was what he hoped it wasn’t…that he was Afrika’s biological father.

Victor drove through his old neighborhood and others he had frequented while growing up. Memories of the parties, the women, and games of hoops in now empty schoolyards crossed his mind. Sitting at a light, Victor watched a middle-aged sister in three-and-a-half-inch heels get out of a car and head toward a drugstore. He broke his neck

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