My ears rang, blaring.
“You want to run away from her.”
My eyes trembled, staring straight through him. I felt dead and alive all at once. How could he do this to me…
Defective.
“My people told me she keeps coming to your penthouse. Doesn’t she know you’re moving away?”
I moved back a step, but only my soul seemed to retreat while my body stayed frozen. Everything grew hazy, as though a fog crept over my vision.
I expected it.He always did this,to me, to my siblings,especially to me.Because he knew I was the one who could embarrass him the most,and that was right. He was doing this on purpose,to punishmefor it.
Shutting my eyes tight, I shook my head. “D-Dad…” I rasped, my lips heavy, dry. “I-I beg you… don’t.”
“That girl knows everything about you, doesn’t she?” His steps shortened, his voice calm but sharp. “She’s the only one left who can tell me what happened to you two in the UK—”
No, no,no.
Before he could finish, I snapped. I lunged at him and grabbed his collar with my trembling hands. “Dad,” I begged, my voice broken, and I shook my head. “If you really care about me… Don’t.”
“Then talk to me!” he snapped back, yanking my hands away, pointing straight at me. “You’ll talk, Zioh. You hear me?! If not, I’ll tell Cindy myself. That girl’s crazy enough to come here, isn’t she?”
My knees trembled, and it took everything in me to stay upright, especially as the walls seemed to draw nearer, pressing in on us.
“If not from you, I’ll hear it from Cindy’s mouth. Do you understand?!” he pressed, his voice cutting before brushing off his shirt and storming out of my study.
Leaving me.
I was shaking. My lips cracked as I dragged my hands down my face, my vision blurring with heat. My body felt light, and I fell hard to the floor.
With trembling hands, I crawled to my desk drawer, pulling it open, and its contents spilt everywhere. My blurred eyes scanned the floor, and I grabbed at the scattered pills. They kept falling, so I grabbed them again with both hands. My throat burned, and a pathetic sob wrenched from my throat as I forced them down.
Still shaking, I searched for my phone like a maniac, my eyes darting, and it was there, on the table. I clung to the desk leg, dragging my useless body up just enough to reach for it. My palms were slick with sweat, slipping, and I barely managed to press the button.
My phone started ringing with the name ‘Sophie’ up there. It rang for too long, and there was no answer.
I tried again.
I slumped against the desk and placed my hand holding the ringing phone on my thigh. Please. My breath felt heavier, and my free hand tried to keep my phone. My vision blurred further every second. Please.I tried to breathe and see—carpet, window, curtains, books, papers, Tshabina.
Finally, the ringing stopped, but there was no sound from there. I tried to regulate my breathing and, with every shred of strength, I lifted the phone to my ear.
“P-please… Plea-se Tshabina… h-help me, hel-p me… I… do—” my voice broke, gagged. I didn’t even realise when the tears streamed down my face. “P-please… Tshabina… h-help me.”
28
Tshabina
I’d read an article that said a single mistake could erase a thousand good deeds. Or perhaps it was simply how our brains work, holding on to someone’s wrongs more vividly than their kindness.
But somehow, those words didn’t apply to me.
Hundreds of beautiful memories, thousands of mistakes. Wrapped in beauty and multiplied torment, none of it could ever truly win.
Everything that had happened, none of it had ever managed to make the mistakes overshadow what we had. Beautiful memories. I didn’t only mean laughter, jokes, teasing, songs, and joy.
I meant the tears, too.
