She Talked Trash About Her Man's Brother—Then His Prison Call Revealed the Truth — Part 2 of 3

The Prison Phone Call That Changed Everything

That night, I couldn't sleep. I lay in bed staring at the ceiling, replaying every word Marcus had said, every look he'd given me. The truth was burning a hole in my chest, and I didn't know how much longer I could keep it inside.

My man, Tyrone, had been locked up for three weeks—not one, like Marcus thought. And I hadn't told anyone the real reason. I hadn't told anyone that the day he got arrested, I'd found out something that made my blood run cold.

The phone rang at 2 a.m., jolting me out of my thoughts. I knew it was him—the prison allowed one call a week, and he always called at this hour. I let it ring twice, then three times, before I picked up.

"Keisha," Tyrone's voice was rough, like he'd been sleeping. "You been avoiding my calls."

"I'm tired, Ty."

"Tired? You think I'm not tired? You think I'm enjoying this?" He paused, and I heard him take a deep breath. "Marcus called me."

My heart dropped into my stomach. "What he say?"

"He said you been running your mouth. Said you told him I wasn't coming home." His voice was hard, cold. "What you mean by that, Keisha?"

I gripped the phone so tight my knuckles went white. "Ty, I didn't mean it like that. I just—"

"You just what?" he snapped. "You got something you wanna tell me?"

I couldn't do it. I couldn't say the words. Not like this, not over the phone. "We need to talk in person," I said. "When you get out."

"I ain't getting out for another six months, Keisha. You know that."

"I know," I said, and my voice cracked. "I know."

There was a long silence on the other end. Then Tyrone spoke, his voice quieter, more dangerous. "Marcus told me something else. He said you were out with some dude named Ray. He said he saw you two together at the bus stop."

"That's a lie!" I shouted. "I don't know no Ray."

"He said you were laughing, Keisha. Laughing and touching his arm."

"Marcus is lying to you!" I cried. "He's been trying to break us up since day one. You know he hates me!"

"Maybe he hates you," Tyrone said slowly, "but he's my blood. And you're just—" he paused, and I could hear the sneer in his voice, "—you're just a woman I thought I could trust."

The words hit me like a punch to the gut. "Ty, please—"

"Don't call me Ty," he said. "Not anymore."

The line went dead, and I sat there in the dark, sobbing. I had to tell him the truth. I had to tell him about the letter I'd found in his drawer—the letter from the prison social worker that said he was being released in two weeks, not six months. And that the real reason he was being released early was because he'd been cooperating with the police against his own brother, Marcus.

I don't know how, but I was going to find a way to make this right. Even if it meant going against everything I believed.