Amani's stomach continuously sank.

It was a funeral ground. Her funeral.

And she was marching on it. Along with the prison guards, Mike, and his colleagues.

The court was in session. So were Amani's raging heart rate and tightened muscles.

Attention was not paid to her, instead, Judge Grace demanded what they were there for.

Helen rose and Amani shifted, clamming her trembling hands underneath her thighs. "It is almost impossible to comprehend the rage young people harbor these days...that they kill." Damn. The court went silent, contributing to the rows of jumbled thoughts in the defendant's head. Helen stared at Amani, deciphering her guilt and roasting her with her judgment. She turned to the judge.

"But being young does not acquit them from punishment. Today, the court must determine the defendant's guilt." Helen's arm angled at her side, inviting the eyes of the small gallery to Amani. "The defense has devised a gap between the facts to fog reality, because the established facts are damning."

Amani knew well she was damned, Mama's vicious eyes met hers and she began tapping her feet. She imagined the woman laughing in some minutes to an hour.

"We have described the heinous crime committed in the Saad residence on Monday, 12th August 2019. And This is what we know," Helen's fingers went up, "Amani's fingerprints on the murder weapon. The victim's blood under her nails. Her booked flight to escape the next day."

The audience remained neutral and even in her state, Amani wanted to scoff. She was too close to shitting her pants to do that though. She continued to tap her feet and bite her lips until she drew out blood.

"The rule of law comes to play irrespective of who is involved. The rich, the powerful, the young."

Helen straightened. "Your honor, the court must do the right thing by recognizing Amani Saad," she angled her arm at her individual of address, "Guilty of the murder of Saad Katagum." The words were supposed to be a commonality to hear but they still weren't. Horror stroke Amani, her eyes shutting close in sync with a bead of sweat trailing down the front of her ear.

A necessary, ass-biting, toe-curling silence wafted the courtroom and enveloped it in a miscellaneous state of emotions.

The next stream of words came out firmer and clearer than the rest, in the ultimate form of clandestine pseudo-command. "Therefore, I request the conviction of death, taking in the seriousness and deliberation of the crime."

Mike and Amani had talked about how she was supposed to act owing to this impending remark. What they didn't talk about was how much the thought of being sentenced to death was terrifying. She momentarily blacked out.

"There is no justification as to why she should not be sentenced to death. After all, even in Sharia law, the punishment for qisas, murder, is death."

Helen turned to stare at Amani head on and Amani dropped her dismantled head down, shrinking her hunched shoulders, "A free man for a free man, a slave for a slave...an eye for an eye." The sound more of a threat than the final words of a closing remark.
A breather was provided after the prosecution's dictum.

"We talked about this," Mike's words from the day before. "You are not guilty." He had reminded in affirmation, so convincing, everyone should believe him. Mike nodded encouragingly, "We're fine." That was damn right the worse form of comfort he could've used.

What the hell was fine about their situation?

He had not encouraged her, he had demolished her nonexistent hope. She was so doomed, but so ready to get this done. Death or no death.

Indeed, Amani had thought long about the outcomes of her conviction. She had lost everything. Life was now meaningless, what should she even live for?

Amani's eyes landed on Mike as he glanced at the dug-at her, and she whispered, "Get 'em."

As if he heard her, he mustered a small smile before rising like a phoenix does off its ashes, so confident, so full of...life...not death.

He was smooth and running at once, negating the prosecution and splitting an arm toward Amani. "You are asked to charge my client with murder owing to how she spoke to her mother after her father had commanded her to dump her boyfriend and get herself a husband before December."

An instant need to collapse in melancholy hit her; she wanted to scream at the world but was sure a crushed and scraped throat would not come close to paralleling the pain. Not only were her top two women missing: Mommy and Nadeen, Sadiq threw her a small smile and hopeful wave.

He was here. And although that should be comforting, it was not. He was optimistic and would be disappointed to see her get sentenced. Amani looked away before she painted her image darker and wiped the tear that fell.

"Is there any clear threat, nor evidence in the text of my client with her abused mother that suggests she was going to kill her father?" Silence, "No."

"Is there any evidence, testimony, or proof showing that Amani Saad along with Binta Wakili planned and executed Ambassador Saad?"

The question scratched Amani's collapsed heart. Almost two years later, her mother's name still had that effect. It was all lies, grieving does not get better. Or at least for her. "I will give you a bona fide answer and that is, No." Mike paused until he was convinced the court had sucked his words before he added, "No evidence at all and none will be found because it never existed to begin with. We might not have a clear image of what happened, but we know for a fact the victim was an irate man who abused my client's mother,"

For a bit of comfort, Amani stole a glance that lasted a second longer than usual at Sadiq's small smile that hadn't fallen off.

"Amani has continuously stated that she did not kill her father. Her fingerprints were found on that knife because she confusedly caught the knife stuck into her mother to try and ease the situation," Flashes of the scene filtered through the most secured door of her mind and flashed before her eyes. She shivered, her chest contracting. The blood, the raspy breaths, the adrenaline, the realization, the guilt would forever hunt and torture her every time she was forced to remember.

"And her mother unconsciously defended herself and her children from the raging man." Mike paused before landing on what was a fact. "Simply put, self-defense. Not a crime."

Mike turned fiercely at the prosecution, "The prosecution has failed to press culpability for the crime it is accusing my client of."

He clasped his hands and stared ahead, at Judge Grace, "Your honor, I want you to see my client today. Not for what the prosecution wants to sentence her with, but as a closed-up child under the tempestuous marriage of her parents."

Pain was one thing. Pain and hopelessness combined? Plaguing. One that never went away. Amani was never going to see her mother again, talk to her again, or get yelled at by her again. Mike magically read her thoughts and added in a disturbing tone,

"Abuse destroys everything."

Facts had been thrown since the session began but everyone, even the prosecution knew Mike's last one was the crown. Most paramount.

"I am confident, you will return with a verdict of not guilty. Thank you."

Amani hardly took notice but the court took a recess and was to resume with a verdict. Her legs had a brain of their own and followed Sara's command.

Her knees buckled and threatened to give up on her more than the number of seconds it took to return to a waiting room.

For the next half an hour, the crew; Amani, Mike, and his assistant sat waiting for the verdict.

Amani had no idea what she wanted. She had lied and said she wanted to die and now, she was more sure than ever she didn't want to die. Her still trembling body and steadfast heart rate could testify. It was not to die that was her wish, it was the suffering to end that she wished for; A conclusion she made.

But even if she was acquitted, was it ever going to end? Without mommy? With her life gone?

She was going to pass out and she had not even heard her final judgment.

The pain wafted in waves, knocking off her breath. A constant reminder that a part of her heart would forever be blank.

It was hard to grasp the concept, one she would spend the rest of her life trying to.

A fragment of memory she battled against resurfaced.

"If I die," Mommy began in her weakened state back at the clinic and Amani immediately shook her head,

"No."

Her mother tightened her grasp around their wrapped, sweaty hands. "If it gets to a point, I need you to put it on me."

"No," Amani croaked, closing her eyes and dropping her shaking forehead against their intertwined fingers. The fight would be for nothing.

"Put the blame on me," The weak woman continued and so did Amani's cries. "Tell them I killed him."

"Mommy," Amani's tone was in warning. "I won't do that. I won't ever do that to you."

"You have to, Aman. You have to." Mommy surged despite the melancholy she was in. She gripped Amani's hands tighter, "It's nothing. Tell them I killed him and it was self-defense. Do not let them crucify you for this."

The words although soft sounded rough and ringing in Amani's ears. She released her mother's hand and jammed her palms over her ears, blocking the words and the guilt out. No, they weren't where they wanted to be for this to happen.

She unceasingly shook her head, "No, Mommy. Please don't make me do this."

Mommy knew there wasn't time, so she placed a weak hand on Amani's arm in an attempt at getting Amani to open her ears. The agonized mother continued once her daughter's guards were low. "Tell them I tried to run away and he attacked so I defended..." Amani said nothing but cry, "You have to Save yourself. Save your siblings, I give Nadeen and Walid to you as amanah. You have to do this, please. I will die happy knowing you will be their mother when—"

"We will never be happy!" Amani was tested with chest constrictions and pain that she wished could be physical. Because at least she could place a finger on where it hurt.

"I love you so much and you were born the best, Amani. Live like I never did."

Amani could not bear it, she could not do it.

"This is all on me—"

"No..."

"Do not suffer for what I did." Mommy went on, fueling Amani's tears as she placed her fingers on Amani's wet cheek.

"Do not speak to me like that."

Mommy smiled, Amani had no idea what she was feeling.

Although the memory tugged at her scraped, shattered heart, it also reminded her who this was for. For Nadeen and Walid. Their chance at a new life.

Putting it on Mommy even as self-defense, if acquitted, was something she would spend the rest of her life trying to forgive herself for.

Although she could never fill the void in her heart or that of her siblings, a part of her wished to be given the chance to try.

With the thought, she was lured back to reality with a tap.
"There's a verdict."

The announcement had Amani's face going pale, her hand unconsciously fisting her mother's gown.

Endless panicked thoughts raced through her, compelling her between jerking and freezing.

"We're going to do fine," Mike's assistant whispered to Amani and all she could do was nothing. The ability to respond had been knocked off her. Her system a robot, awaiting a command.

Owing to the unceasing rush of adrenaline, flight, fight, freeze, and fawn were her synced sympathetic response.

Sara cuffed her and they proceeded to the courtroom. Once there, the confines were released and Amani sat at the edge of the seat in the dug, fisting, clasping, and rubbing her sweaty palms.

Every sense in the courthouse heightened, tension begging to be clean cut with a knife, silence deep to the point of picking a pin drop sound.

The foreman announced a written verdict was available and handed it to Judge Grace who exhaled almost dramatically and after painfully going over the verdict again, sought for the defendant.

Amani rose on wobbly feet, clasping her shaky palms in front of her like Mike had commanded, and cast her widened eyes to her feet. Her stomach was in knots.

Death?

Now Amani believed In God's decision to hide everyone's death day from humanity. No one would live if they knew their death day and here she was, a woman she never knew deciding whether she lived or not.

"The Federal Republic of Nigeria versus Amani Saad Katagum on the charge of first-degree murder finds the defendant not guilty. The defendant will be released immediately."

Amani understood English no more but her knees buckled and a spontaneous tear fell off her eye over the sound of the courtroom going up in cheer. She was crazed, frantically gripping the edge of the dug as she gasped.
"What did she say? What is she saying?" Her ears were blocked, and she swiveled, keeping one hand to support herself while seeking Mike. He was in front of the dug before she knew it and she reran her question in a breathy, croaky tone. "What did she say?"

"You are free!"

Amani's shaky fingers rose to her chest, "I am free?"

"Yes, you are free."

No word fitted what she was feeling as she tried to reach for Mike but could not. A rush of adrenaline gave her a heads up, her wobbly legs turning and rushing down. Instead of going for Mike, her eyes met a group of people approaching her. Her plan changed and she collapsed to her knees halfway to her family, bringing her arms around Walid's short form.

A part of Amani held hope that after the verdict, she'd wake up from this nightmare and find Mommy close by. It was starting to settle in that she would always hold out hope to see her mother but never would, even if she was destined to live a hundred years.

The realization invited a hysteric sob from her and she tightened her hand around her brother. Comforting him and comforting herself,

"Nadeen?" Amani croaked, backing out of the hug but still holding onto Walid, "Where is Nadeen?"

"Home," Laura answered, dragging Amani's arm and engulfing her in a hug. "She was in crisis this morning."

If the tears had begun to depart, they came back in full force and her sobs continued.

While Laura's tears were happy ones, Amani's were a mishmash of agony, realization, and acceptance. Her mother was never coming back, Nadeen will forever go into crisis, and she had to live this miserable life knowing these facts.

Once Laura released Amani, she turned to Sadiq in hesitation and all Sadiq could think was that it was finally over. A step to two forward and Amani was being crushed into him, his arms wrapping and tightening around her. The sobs came back, this time with convulsions.

Emotions continued to saddle the courtroom as some dispersed and some surprisingly stayed back.
The rest of her family, her stepbrothers stood waiting for her.

"You don't have to talk to them if you don't want to."

"I do." Amani nodded. She owed Rashid. Her verdict would probably be the opposite if not for him.

Akram's hug lasted as he rubbed her back and whispered how sorry he was. It was not going to change anything but hearing him say it meant something.

Once she was in Rashid's arms and he was satisfied with the hug, he pulled back and Amani immediately dropped her head, whispering, "Thank you."

"I am sorry. We should've stood by you."

It would not have changed anything, but she held the words back. She was afraid of upsetting him.

"Let's go." Laura ran in a tight voice.

Amani came in with little to no belongings and as such, the procedure to change to her original clothes and leave took mere minutes.

Sara stared at Amani with a warm smile and Amani dropped her head, ashamed of the trouble she put Sara through during her painful stay.

"I've always known you didn't do it."

Amani rushed into Sara's arms, wrapping her hands and holding on for dear life. She was short of words, her hug the only form of appreciation she could show.

"Aren't you going to ask me how?" Sara asked once she pulled out of the hug, holding unto Amani's arms.

"How?"

"Because criminals feel pretty good about themselves so they justify hurting people. And you...you hate yourself."

The words lingered in Amani's head, the mess going on there too much to comprehend Sara's words. She responded with a nod, agreeing to what she didn't even understand.

Once at the threshold to the outside world, Amani's legs were suddenly glued to the floor.

"What's wrong?"

Her tongue was tied, she could see the mass of people, the sun outside. It was weird. No bar, no fence, no cuffs. Freedom.

As Laura, Sadiq, Walid, and Akram closed in on her, Amani flinched back. Her face contorted and so did everyone else's.

"Stay back." It was strange, scary, and threatening.

"It's fine," Sadiq reassured and Laura looked away, hiding her tears.

"There are no handcuffs. We can go. Let's go home." Although everyone kept their distance, Sadiq put his hand out for her and she looked at him almost in disgust but it was fear. Her ability to differentiate her own emotions had deteriorated, everything was one thing.

The scene froze in anticipation of Amani's move but she made none until Mike asked. "What's wrong Amani?"

It was clear Amani felt safer and closer to Mike over the course of being confined for almost two years as her system only responded to him, her wide eyes unfreezing from Sadiq's hand to turn to Mike.

Mike understood trauma immediately he saw it. He began to nod, stepping slowly and carefully until he could squeeze Amani's shoulder. "You are free now, you did not kill him. He can not hurt you anymore."

She found comfort in Mike's word more than in her family. He understood her slight move back and set his hand to her. Amani scrutinized him for what could be spelled as a nanosecond before clasping their palms. The act instantly breaking Sadiq's heart.

This was square one. And not just Sadiq, even her family must live with it.

Laura gestured with her hand to move. The crew formed a cover for Amani and Mike against the crowd, the press, and their endless offensive questions until they were at the car.

Again, Mike reassured Amani he would visit before she released his hand and slipped into the backseat of Laura's convoy car.

Amani could sense everyone's nervousness around her, they did not know how to act anymore. Walid sat beside her and Laura occupied the space beside him.

The car was quick to life, the lined-up cars strategically driving out of the courthouse and setting a route home. As they drove, Amani ignored the glances Walid and Laura kept throwing her and instead placed a finger on the window button to push.

She was car sick, being in a vehicle and on the road was strange. The click was clogged, the window stayed closed and she vigorously punched the button.

Laura leaned in, pressing the button and the window immediately rolled down.

Oh, Amani swallowed, eyes glossy. She was gone for just over a year and all of a sudden did not even know how to operate a car window?

Nonetheless, the air was one of the things that felt good that day. Slowly, Amani picked her hand and placed one-third of her fingers into the wind to feel and remind herself that this was no dream.

She was out. She was free.

She placed her arm out, the whooshy sound of the window-rattling everyone's ears and singing sweet lullabies of freedom to her ears. She could breathe better and did so the whole ride to Laura's house.

The cars furiously bypassed Laura's gate before they parked at the front of the porch.

The house looked different, the trees bigger, the colors brighter, it was not how she remembered it.

Again, Laura had to say, "It's fine, you can come out." Before Amani hesitantly opened the door and took a deep breath. Walid held one of her hands and Laura the other once they noticed she had begun to shake.

Maids, police, and people surrounded the porch. The people, the bright colors, and even the air were too much.

As soon as Amani stepped into the house, she almost had an attack. Her pores began to sweat, she was convinced all eyes were on her. Everyone's eyes were indeed on her. She had dreamt of coming home and now that she had, she wanted to run; home was with Mommy, Nadeen, and Walid.

Speaking of Nadeen, Amani frantically looked around the white and olive green interiors, Mommy's interiors back at Daddy's house-in search of Nadeen but was quick to remember the girl was probably asleep.

The next part of the house Amani was led into had her almost staggering back, the spanking scent of tangerine-again, Mommy's signature home scent- meeting her nostrils. Laura went to push open a mahogany door but it opened by itself, a figure with tearful eyes appearing in oversized silk adire.

Mommy. Nadeen.

Nadeen in mommy's clothes.

Nadeen cried out loud, sprinting in her weakened state and crushing Amani into her arms.

The familiarity rasped Amani to life and she motioned her hands to hug her sister. She buried her face in Nadeen's shoulder, blocking her sobs and instead sucking the mix of fragrance off Nadeen's body.

The faint mush oudh, Mommy's pineapple scent, the tangerine-smelling home, the interiors, and Nadeen's warmth coincided in bringing back a memory Amani had not been able to re-live except in fragments.

In Nadeen's never-ending embrace, her cries, Walid's visible cries before he joined the hug, Amani's eyes rolled to the back of her head as a qualitative memory of that day seeped through the bars of her mind and played before her eyes...

***

I'm curious, what's your theory for how daddy died?