Demands My Soul -08-

The author was inspired by these words in writing the title and this novel and gives thanks to THE ONE above.

Chapter 8: Shockwaves and Realizations

The notification chime on Delores's phone seemed to echo through her apartment with unusual urgency as she sat at her kitchen table that evening, still processing the confrontation with Craig. She glanced at the screen expecting another work email or perhaps a message from one of her support group friends, but instead saw a name that made her heart skip: Beau Morrison.

The message was brief: Just heard about the will situation from Craig. Flying home tomorrow. We need to talk. - B

Delores stared at the text, reading it three times before the words fully registered. Beau was coming home. Her younger brother, the one who had always been caught between love and confusion when it came to her identity, was returning from Iraq in the middle of this legal nightmare. She wasn't sure if that was a blessing or another complication she couldn't handle.

She started to type a response several times, then deleted each attempt. What could she say? Welcome home, your family is falling apart? Hope you're ready for a legal battle over my right to exist? Craig is trying to prove I'm not real?

Instead, she simply typed: Safe travels. Yes, we need to talk.

Three thousand miles away, in a military transport preparing for takeoff from Baghdad International Airport, Beau Morrison read his sister's response while wrestling with his own emotional turmoil.

The phone call from Craig had come at 0400 local time, waking him from restless sleep in his final night overseas. His older brother's voice had been carefully controlled, professionally distant, as he explained the "complications" with their parents' estate.

"I'm sorry to have to tell you this way," Craig had said, "but Timothy is challenging the will. He's hired an attorney and is claiming discrimination. It's going to get messy, and I thought you should know before you come home."

Even half-awake, Beau had caught the deliberate use of "Timothy" instead of "Delores," the way Craig framed the situation as if their sister was the aggressor rather than the victim. But what had struck him most was what Craig hadn't said—that he was the one who had initiated the legal challenge, that he was using their parents' discriminatory clauses as weapons against their own family member.

"What exactly are you doing, Craig?" Beau had asked, his voice sharp with suspicion.

"I'm upholding Mom and Dad's wishes. The will is very clear about their moral standards, about the kind of behavior they wanted to reward with their legacy. I have a legal and moral obligation to ensure their intentions are honored."

"Their intentions, or your bank account?"

The silence that followed had been telling. When Craig finally spoke, his voice was cold. "I don't appreciate the implication, Beau. This is about family values, not money."

"Family values?" Beau had sat up in his narrow cot, fully awake now and angry. "What family values are served by destroying our sister?"

"Timothy is not—"

"Her name is Delores." The words had come out harder than Beau intended, surprising them both. "She's been Delores for sixteen years, Craig. She's our sister, and if you can't see that, then you're the one who's lost sight of family values."

Another silence, longer this time. When Craig spoke again, his tone was carefully measured. "I can see that your time overseas has... influenced your perspective on these matters. Perhaps we should discuss this when you're home and can think more clearly."

"My thinking has never been clearer," Beau had replied. "I'll be home tomorrow, and we will definitely discuss this. But Craig? If you think I'm going to stand by and watch you destroy Delores for money, you don't know me at all."

Now, as the transport plane lifted off from Iraqi soil, Beau reflected on how much had changed in the eight months since he'd left home. The man who had deployed was still struggling with his faith, still caught between inherited prejudices and growing understanding, still unable to fully embrace his sister's truth. The man returning was different—transformed by theological study, strengthened by spiritual growth, armed with new understanding of THE ONE's radical love.

He pulled out his phone and scrolled through his contacts until he found Father Rodriguez's number. His mentor had insisted that Beau call if he ever needed guidance, and this certainly qualified.

"Beau!" Father Rodriguez's voice was warm despite the early hour in Colorado. "How are you, son? Ready to come home?"

"I'm not sure, Father. I'm coming home to a family crisis, and I need your advice."

Beau explained the situation as best he could—the discriminatory will, Craig's legal challenge, Delores's fight for recognition. Father Rodriguez listened without interruption, occasionally making soft sounds of understanding or dismay.

"I see," the priest said when Beau finished. "And what does your heart tell you about this situation?"

"That it's wrong. That Craig is using our parents' prejudices to justify his own greed. That Delores deserves better from her family, especially after everything she's endured." Beau paused, looking out the small window at the clouds below. "But I'm also scared, Father. Scared of the conflict, scared of choosing sides, scared of what it might cost me to stand up for what's right."

"Fear is natural, Beau. But remember what we've discussed about THE ONE's love—it casts out fear. It calls us to courage, to justice, to standing with the marginalized and oppressed." Father Rodriguez's voice was gentle but firm. "Your sister is being marginalized by her own family. She's being oppressed by legal systems that don't recognize her full humanity. If you don't stand with her, who will?"

"But what if I'm wrong? What if Craig is right about upholding our parents' values?"

"Beau, listen to me carefully. Values that exclude, that diminish, that deny the full humanity of THE ONE's children—those aren't divine values. Those are human fears dressed up as moral principles. THE ONE's values are love, acceptance, justice, mercy. Which side of this conflict embodies those values?"

The answer was obvious, but Beau needed to hear it said aloud. "Delores. She's the one being denied love and acceptance. She's the one being treated unjustly."

"Then you know where you need to stand. Not because it's easy, but because it's right. Not because it's comfortable, but because it's what THE ONE calls you to do."

After the call ended, Beau sat in contemplative silence as the transport plane carried him toward home and the most important decision of his life. He thought about the seminary courses that had opened his eyes to THE ONE's inclusive love, about the biblical passages that spoke of justice for the oppressed, about the call to comfort the afflicted and afflict the comfortable.

He thought about Delores—not the Timothy he had grown up with, but the woman she had become when finally free to live authentically. He remembered her birthday card, signed "Your sister, Delores," and realized that she had been offering him a gift he had been too afraid to accept: the gift of knowing who she really was.

Back in Atlanta, Delores was having her own moment of realization as she sat in her apartment, staring at Beau's text message.

She had been so focused on Craig's legal challenge that she hadn't fully considered what Beau's return might mean. Her younger brother had always been the gentler of the two, the one more likely to show compassion, but he had also been deeply conflicted about her transition. His Southern Baptist faith had created a wall between them that neither had known how to breach.

But something in his text message felt different. The way he had said "we need to talk" rather than "I need to understand" or "this is complicated." The absence of the careful distance that had characterized their relationship since her transition. The simple fact that he had reached out at all, when he could have just as easily avoided the family drama until it was resolved.

Maybe his time overseas had changed him. Maybe distance from their parents' influence had given him space to think for himself. Maybe the theological education Craig had mentioned in passing had opened his mind to new possibilities.

Or maybe she was reading too much into a simple text message, projecting her own hopes onto words that might mean nothing more than a brother's obligation to be present during a family crisis.

Her phone rang, interrupting her speculation. The caller ID showed Rebecca Chen.

"Delores, I wanted to update you on our response strategy. I've been reviewing your brother's petition, and I think we have several strong angles of attack."

"Tell me."

"First, the discriminatory nature of the will clauses themselves. Courts are increasingly reluctant to enforce inheritance conditions that violate public policy, especially those that discriminate against protected classes. Second, the question of your parents' actual intent versus the legal language they used. And third, your brother's obvious financial motivation in pursuing this challenge."

Delores felt a spark of hope. "You think we can win?"

"I think we can make a very strong case. But I need you to understand something—this is going to get ugly. Your brother's attorney will try to paint you as a fraud, as someone pretending to be something you're not for financial gain. They'll question your relationships, your lifestyle, your very identity. Are you prepared for that level of scrutiny?"

Delores thought about the confrontation in Craig's office, about the way he had looked at her like she was a stranger wearing his sibling's face. "I've been living under scrutiny my entire life, Rebecca. I've been questioned and challenged and told I'm not real by people who should have loved me unconditionally. If I can survive that, I can survive a courtroom."

"Good. Because we're going to need that strength. I'm filing our response tomorrow, and once we do, there's no going back. This becomes a public battle, with media attention and community interest. Your private life becomes public record."

After the call ended, Delores walked to her mantelpiece and picked up the cracked family photograph. The damage seemed to have spread slightly, the hairline fracture now extending from the middle of the image toward the edges. Soon, she realized, the glass would shatter completely, and the photograph would be irreparably damaged.

But maybe that wasn't entirely a bad thing. Maybe some things needed to break completely before they could be rebuilt properly. Maybe the family in this photograph—the one based on performance and pretense and conditional love—needed to be destroyed so that something more authentic could take its place.

She thought about Beau's text message, about the possibility that he might return as an ally rather than another source of conflict. She thought about the support group friends who saw her truth, about the attorney who was willing to fight for her rights, about the community that had embraced her when her biological family couldn't.

She thought about THE ONE's love, which Janet had described as seeing the soul before the shell, the heart before all else. That love didn't depend on legal documents or family approval or societal acceptance. That love was constant, unconditional, transformative.

Tomorrow, Rebecca would file their response to Craig's petition. Tomorrow, the battle would begin in earnest. Tomorrow, she would have to defend not just her inheritance but her right to exist as herself.

But tonight, she would remember who she was and why she was worth fighting for. Tonight, she would trust that THE ONE's love was bigger than human prejudice, stronger than legal challenges, more real than any document could capture.

The photograph might be cracked, the family might be fractured, the future might be uncertain. But Delores was real, Delores was worthy, and Delores was not going anywhere.

The shockwaves from Craig's legal challenge were spreading through their family like ripples in a pond. But sometimes, Delores realized, shockwaves were necessary to shake loose the things that needed to fall away, to make room for something better to grow in their place.

She was ready for whatever came next. She had been preparing for this battle her entire life, even when she didn't know it. Every day she had chosen authenticity over comfort, truth over convenience, love over fear—all of it had been preparation for this moment when she would have to defend her right to be herself.

The battle was just beginning, but she was not alone. She had chosen family, legal representation, community support, and most importantly, she had THE ONE's love. That would have to be enough.

It would be enough.