Hours after Mama Nadine had a shattering collapse, Grandpa Ethan and Grandma Morag suddenly returned home and chose to stay. They were rarely around before, so why would they decide to remain unless something serious had happened?
And, as usual, no one wanted to explain it to me.
Also, the night after she spiralled into that sobbing wreck, her cries still echoed through the hallway. I was sure it came from her room. But when I tried to check, one of the maids stopped me, insisting that she was already asleep, even though I had just heard the cries moments before.
I knew something was wrong, yet I was kept in the dark, and it felt as if a thousand sharp teeth were gnawing at me from the inside.
But Zeraiah seemed as clueless as I was.
“Mum’s been weak these past few days, just lying down all the time. She cries and draws, then she phones someone in tears over and over again.” That was the only explanation I got from Zeraiah, and my mind drifted further, unable to settle. Something had hurt Mama Nadine.
Zeraiah turned gloomy, lost like me. I didn’t know what happened, but… I hoped Mama Nadine was all right.
Christmas should be a time of joy. We should be laughing, making memories, enjoying our first holiday together in England. But now, even with gifts piled beneath the tree, it felt like nothing but emptiness.
This morning, as tradition went, we gathered beneath the tree to open presents—late, because none of us could drag ourselves out of bed with any energy.
There was no excitement, smiles, or joy—just silence and heavy sighs. I opened my gift in slow, quiet motions. The hot chocolates the maid had made for us remained beside us, untouched, not even glanced at. They were probably cold by now.
Then, my phone chimed. It was a message from Dad. He had sent countless photos of himself with Mum, glowing with happiness. My lips curled into a smile; at least their Christmas was beautiful.
The photos must have been taken during Mum’s dance performance a few days ago. She looked stunning. Dad was lucky to have her, and they were fortunate to have each other.
In one shot, they posed as if the world had disappeared around them. Mum was still in costume, holding Dad’s bouquet. Along with the pictures came their Christmas wishes.
If they knew what we were going through here…
I looked back at the three boys in front of me. Zeraiah opened his present with little enthusiasm; Tsabinu kept fiddling with his; and Zioh… He stared at the pile of presents; he wasn’t blinking, as if he weren’t there at all.
Licking my lips, I hesitated for a heartbeat before trying to break the silence with a cheerful voice. “Dad and Mum say Merry Christmas!” I smiled. “They’ll give us our presents once we’re back home.”
The three of them turned to me. Zeraiah gave a faint nod but then sank back into silence. So, I tried again, lifting my phone.
“Oh, and Dad sent loads of pictures of Mum’s performance. Do you want to see?” I shuffled closer, wedging between Zioh and Tsabinu, while Zeraiah sat beside his brother. I held up my phone for them to see, scrolling through the photos with excitement.
Tsabinu let out a small, warm smile. Zeraiah smirked and muttered, “What a pair of old lovebirds,” earning laughter from Tsabinu and me when we reached the photo of Dad kissing Mum’s cheek.
We laughed, but not Zioh. He remained silent beside me, staring at the screen. His distant, hollow expression made my chest tighten. He seemed to be travelling through his thoughts, lost somewhere with them.
I wasn’t used to seeing Zioh like this. No matter how often I tried to reach him, he had felt so far away these past days.
Then, without warning, Zioh stood up. The three of us snapped our heads toward him. “I’m going to the loo,” he muttered, his tone flat and cutting, before leaving without a glance.
I froze, watched him walk away. He shook his head in a continuous motion and clenched his fist tightly. My heart hammered at the sight, and I let out a shaky breath.
As I was about to follow after him, Tsabinu suddenly wrapped a firm arm around my shoulders, pulling me closer. His grip was warm and steady, and his voice was soft. “This is bad, Dek. We might end up with a new baby sibling,” he said as he glanced at me.
Raising my brow, I stared at him in disbelief.
Ewww.Disgusting!
Zeraiah burst into loud laughter, nearly doubling over beside him. “You can make your own with your seed if you want, Bib!”
Ugh.Their words made me grimace. How could they say that so casually? Annoyed, I pinched both at their sides and scowled at them.
“Ow!” Zeraiah winced, and they chuckled as Tsabinu straightened my fringe. Still grinning, Zeraiah shoved a stack of large, pink-wrapped presents at me. “From Dad,” he said.
My eyes lit up at once. It was no secret that Uncle Bakti often spoiled me. I mean, there were more than a dozen gifts!
