My life could normally be compared to a roller coaster but now, it was just worst. Seemed like the ride was faulty with jammed hinges and loose knots.

Csp Allen had taken me to a house, a multi-storey building which he said belonged to the state. A room in its multiple crevices had been established for my rehabilitation. And in that same room, after he'd delightfully ensured I was familiar with the surroundings and equipments, I then brought up the topic of my co-fighters.

It was a topic, I noticed that made his face strewn out despite the impressive rigidity of his facial muscles.

"And here is the restroom, incase you want to relieve yourself," Allen had said.

"We'd be checking on you at every minute, but do not hesitate to call for us if you need anything. There is a panic button beside your bed for that and you'll have someone attending to you when you hit it."

"I trust that we should have you settled in right now. You should be tired," he said.

I remembered Henry's conflicted face as he'd heard me cry. His voices, his calls...

What could I do to ease the guilt I felt. The plan was all shattered cause of me. Hell, I hope they were all right?

"Sorry, excuse me officer," I said, sitting on the bed. "Could I at least know what went on with the others before I passed out?"

"Ooh," he said. "I didn't know you'd be that interested."

"I am pretty much interested sir, especially now that I know what happened."

"That is a good development. You want to say what you remembered?"

"Yes sir."

"Well, you can go on," he said, making himself comfortable on the desk top and adjusting his holster.

"I remember being shot," I said, gauging his reaction. "And I also remember being the reason I was shot, something that could have been avoided if I was not delusional."

Csp Allen was silent for some time, staring into my eyes with an expression— formidable in its blank entirety.

"What are you currently afraid of miss Megbuo?"

My head swept back in shock. "What?"

He raised a brow, still managing to look bored. 

"My —my name..." I said, stammering. I couldn't even recognize my own voice.

"I know about you." He was nonchalant. Speaking like he was a family friend telling me about him and my late dad's wild nights during their youths.

"I almost never use that name," I whispered, gaze pointed at his solemn face but quirked lips.

"Well, it's your name," he started. "-given to you by your mother, am I right?"

There was a lot of precision in what he was saying even as an officer of the law cause I knew that my last name was never in any document home and abroad.

"How did you know that? And please, who are you to me?"

"I'm a family friend and I'll show you something interesting. Have you seen this?" he asked, pulling a wallet out and showing me a miniature black and white photo, like the one I'd taken from Urewoli. It was a photo of a father holding a child— a father who resembled Csp Allen upon close inspection.

I knew my maternal grand-dad before he died. I also know my paternal grand-dad who was still alive. Who then could he be? I'd never heard him being mentioned among the few family friends we had.

But then, on looking closer at the photo, things started to click.

A family friend. Csp Allen seriously looking like my granddad who in the photo held a child I assumed to be my mum.

It was like I was assuming wrongly.

Was there a family feud I want informed of? Or a displacement that went on early in the family that I never knew of?

"Are you just a family friend or a relative?"

"That's the question I like hearing and I'll make the answer simple. I'm your dad, the innovative one."

I was sure he suddenly had three heads or maybe eight ears.

No, that's so unrealistic.

I thought maybe he was trying to crack a joke, you know, like to break the unfamiliarity in the air, but I could tell he was doing a bad job, and somehow, his countenance— the sly raise of his brow and his piercing eyes, didn't seem like that of a joker's.

"You're serious?"

"There's no need to be an unbeliever, I've got proof." He dipped his hand in his pocket and took out a white document, uncovering it from its half-fold. "Here's one though, gotten from a sample of your hair and mine. It was somehow hard cause of your dread."

I took it, albeit reluctantly from him. The question on why he'd taken a sample from me without awaiting my wake was pushed to the back of my mind just so I could look at the paper and call him out on his joke.

Child: Harida Bick
Alleged father: Allen Kelvin

Allele sizes, some indexes, amelogehn and then...

Probability of paternity: 99.9999997%

"No! You forged this. I've only got one dad and he's dead."

He sighed. "This was not how I thought you'd receive the news, you should be ecstatic, but we could always redo it the DNA if you want."

I said nothing.

He sighed and stood up, a human action I didn't think he was capable of emulating.

Hard ridges of muscles budged through his shirt as he walked towards the door.

"Well," he said, standing by the door. "See you during dinner."

*****

That night, we had a dinner that threw my life in a different trajectory. We fought, yes. But no battle was more intense than coping with the reality of a new dad.

"Miss," the scarred stranger before me called out.

It seemed like I'd blanked out again. Almost two weeks later and I was barely coping with how much things had changed.

"I feel like you're being forced to be with me," Ellis said. Or was he Avian? I couldn't really tell. I just knew that the half a dozen men in black, surrounding us and failing to be nondescript were with us because of him.

And from the way they kept staring at me inquisitively, I didn't know who they considered a threat, the opposing mafias or I.

"Your feelings are genuine," I said without thinking and when I realized what I'd done I shrieked and the cutlery dropped from my hold, clanking on the plate like a town crier.

An even chiller silence encompassed the empty restaurant, and I held my breadth waiting for a retaliation. But Avian smiled and relaxed into his seat, shoulder filling everywhere up like the king he was.

"Well, if that's how you feel, it'll be better to cut this off, but I wonder why you haven't instigated it."

"Ruler of the silver spoon..., ruler of the black patch. I'm a female, a bargaining chip. Do females really have any choice?"

Without smiles, he said, "When I'm involved, yeah, they do."

He checked his watch for the time, and signaled at his guys who began a scout of the environment and a preparation for departure.

"You're a fun girl Harida, and in as much as you believe you're being sold to me, I view it in a different light, not as dark as you think. I enjoy your company and I'd like to spend more time with you, but if you do not wish that, you can call it off right now and I'll heed to decision. Forget about Allen, I wouldn't want an unwilling queen."

"I—" I began, wanting to really say my mind. But there was Allen, and there was people held hostage because of me. People whose life span depended on the union of Avian and I.

I could mutter another word.

"Then I'll need you to affirm your decision," Avian said, his piercing eyes staring straight at me, cold but sincere as it awaited an answer.

"I accept our relationship," I said.

He nodded, still staring at my eyes.

"Now that this is all settled, let us go drop you," he said, standing up and releasing his hand for to support me so I could stand.

Not that I needed the help. I started walking properly about a week ago. All injuries healed except one.

When we walked out, a guard tried opening the limo door for us. Avian stopped him, opened it and let me get in before he turned around to go in himself.

I hadn't been paying attention at first but when I did, things stopped looking bleak.

I saw the same band Henry usually wore on the wrist of the guard that tried opening the door for me. It had  the double H, same calligraphy.

Then I traced it to eyes that sparkled, along with an hourglass shape hidden properly in coats too big.

Hilda?!

She disappeared with the other guards.

I turned to stare at Avian beside me but he wasn't saying anything. Instead his lips were slightly tugged at the side as if he was trying not to smile.

I turned back again, trying to get a view of Hilda thinking maybe I had hallucinated, but before I could, the limo started with a roll which turned into a smooth glide and then, the image of classic restaurants and hotels became a moving scenery.

And like every time Avian took me out, he didn't drop the curtains but allowed me admire the scenery.

Who knows, maybe he pitied me for how I was locked in like a criminal.

Or does he not know?

Maybe I'd discuss that with him in our next date but for know I got more pressing thoughts like what Hilda was up to.