BAUCHI STATE, NIGERIA.

Mahnoor went back to the hospital room and took her baby's body, backed him with the towel she's used to close his body after she'd given him a bath earlier. She left the hospital, tuning down the sounds of her driver and doctor calling her back. The driver decided to drive the car closely behind her without interrupting her alone time with her baby. She looks to be out of the world and into her own inner circle where no one is allowed to come through. This is between her and her baby, last time with him before he is really taken away from her.

She walked the whole ten minutes drive in a car to the Ajuji manor, her feet aching but she wasn't feeling it. All she is focused on is going to see the faces of the people that have caused nothing but pain to her. Ever since she was introduced to that family, she knew nothing other than the pain they've caused her. She's tried shunning away from it but this is the last straw.

Banging on the front door upon arriving, not feeling the cold as the thunder strikes the sky with frightening outcry, Mahnoor permit her eyes to stay rooted on the front door. A maid opened the door with panicked eyes since they've heard about what happened from the hospital. Each and every member of the Ajuji family is standing there in the family living room looking every shade frightened, pained and also hurt. Traitors, she mused in her head as she trudged several steps to where they are scrutinizing her.

The sisters are also standing beside each other, Najeeba have tears rolling down her cheeks and the other sisters are also trying their best to not let them fall at the sight of the sad broken and shattered mother in front of them. Najeeba is crying with sobs, her shoulders wracking as she sat on the couch, her legs not able to hold her weight and knees wobbly. All the others are standing, their postures broken and sad but that's not enough for her. Her heart is bleeding excessively, crying the tears her eyes aren't allowing to gush. Her chest is aching, the type she's never felt in her entire life. Not even when she's lost her favorite uncle.

Her rolling stomach made it hard for her to breath, coming out in heavy or sluggish rasps as she stood in front of them like the modicum she's always felt. Even with the power to bring them down now in her hands by exposing the murderer of her child, she is like a tiny frivolous, harebrained piece of shit.

All of them standing together look sovereign and authoritarian, ready to squash down any problem that will come their way and stop their dreams from becoming true. She felt chills, fingers cold but she didn't falter to warm them up, that's the least of her troubles.

Swallowing hard, her chest tingling and weighted with so many emotions that left a sour taste in her mouth, an ache in the back of the throat making it difficult for her to swallow. She shook off the dizziness and the way her limbs are shaking, she touched her baby's back with her hands to make sure he is still wrapped around her and the weight of him is true and not an illusion.

Fadwa was about to step forward to help her get Aasim off her back when she raise her hand up to stop her, she shouldn't come close to her because she needs no one's help at the moment. She's been reliable and dependent on them for a long time, it's time for her to do something by herself so when she ruin their lives, she won't be indebted pr duty-bound. Not after all she's endured and all the problems and dolors that kept on augmenting just by being under their care.

She unhurriedly untied the towel from her braless chest and hold him in her arms before placing him gently on her shoulders as though he is alive, she cannot help it when she is used to doing so all the time. Her emotions are interspersed and littered all around, she doesn't know which one to take.

"Are you happy now?" Her eyes are on Aman who stood quietly at the end of the long vertical line they made in front of the couch. His eyes are blank as he stared at both the baby and her, he didn't offer a word.

She swallowed against the scratchiness in her throat. "I said ARE YOU HAPPY NOW THAT YOU'VE KILLED MY BABY? ARE YOU SATISFIED? IS YOUR EGO NOW FULLY CONVALESCED?" She yelled at the top of her voice, her eyes wide like a woman who's just lost her whole prudence, which she did. Her son was her lucidity and sagacity and now that he is no more, they are going to see the crazy woman she's always been.

Gasps echoed across the room in disbelieve, most of them looking at her like she's lost her acumen.

They all don't know that her son's death is a murder, she told the hospital not to disclose that piece of information and she will do so herself. She wants to see the look of shock and galvanization when she attribute and denounce their son of murder and she is damn satisfied. All eyes are now on both of them, all of them not believing a word she's just said but she will definitely enjoy showing them the evidence and proof. She's seen it herself apart from the one the police are going to confirm in the next few minutes.

No one talked for awhile, even Najeeba's sobs seized for the minute as she looked around the room in utter confusion. She just heard the word murder and then her sister-in-law's eyes on her brother, who happens to be her husband which means the sentence or question is directed to him. But why would Mahnoor accuse her husband of murdering their own child? Maybe she's lost her mind after finding out about her son's death, that should be the only explanation to this situation.

Hajiya Hadiza stepped forward with a frown. "What are you talking about? Why are you accusing your husband of killing your own son? What's wrong with you?"

Mahnoor's eyes were still on Aman when she replied her mother-in-law with no sign of tribute or the consideration she's always given her whatsoever. "There is nothing wrong with me, I'm perfectly alright but your son clearly isn't."

Aman didn't flinch, move, blink or even twitch his brows at the accusation but only stood there like a statue looking at her with blank wicked eyes that care about nothing but himself. He'd go to any extent for a mere revenge and she can see that she really should've feared him like her instincts had told her to. Now her son paid the repercussion of her mistake but she won't let this slide just like that. She only slapped him, he should've done the same or even beat her with cable or stick but he didn't.

He killed her son instead! Their son! How could a father kill his own son?

Zubairu Ajuji spoke this time around since his wife is now speechless. "Can you further explain what you are talking about? You are talking nonsense so far."

This time around, she let her eyes fall away from Aman's and held her father-in-law's with a raised brow at his dismissal tone. How dare he think she is talking nonsense when she's just mentioned murder with her dead child in her arms? Who does he think he is to interfere with her words now when she has the upper hand in this entire situation? She is going to make sure his dream of becoming a governor is shattered, that is her main goal of he doesn't allow justice to reign this time around. He's always been unjust, she shall see how it goes now with his grandchild.

"I just said,your son, Aman Zubairu Ajuji killed my son, Aasim Aman Zubairu Ajuji. I have proof. Apart from the one I saw with my own eyes, the police have one with them too. Your son killed my son and I won't rest until I see your son behind the bars and hanged like the culprit he is! A murderer and a poor excuse of a man that cannot take a mere slap because his ego was bruised. He had to result to something so selfish, sleazy and repugnant. He had to kill his own son to make sure his message is sent across. You are a coward, nothing but that. You are not a man but an excuse." She spit on the floor and match it with her feet, shook her head at Aman's rigid form.

Asad hurried from the other side of his sisters and came to her. "Mahnoor, you are not yourself right now so how about you go and rest while we bathe Aasim. You are not making sense right now. We don't understand a thing you are saying."

Mahnoor's eyes landed on his soft caressing eyes filled with tenderness, commiseration and sympathy. She almost lost herself in them but the pain stabbed her again because he has the same face as the man who's killed her son only that his eyes are soft and welcoming unlike his satanic younger brother who has the devil may care look on his face right now. His eyes are red though, like someone's who's inebriated but she refuse to believe he was intoxicated when he persuaded her son to inhale poison.

She's heard rumors about Aman way before she's met him and when she did, she researched again about who he is and she found out he smokes and also takes liquor more than he does water. Maybe he was intoxicated when he did that but that doesn't matter, she won't forgive him. The fucking drunkard.

In a much quieter tone that's filled with trust and utmost love, she answered Asad. "I know what I'm saying. The doctor told me my son was forced to sniff cyanide, a deadly poison that is not even found in Nigeria. When I heard the cries of Aasim from the bathroom, I rushed to the room to see what's going on only to see the glimpse of Aman leaving the room with his easy strides like he didn't just forced my son to sniff some poison. He had the chutzpah to pivot and smile at me! They have handprints and I'm very sure they are going to show his hands. He killed my baby, Asad. He killed my only child."

Her voice is shaky and replenished with emotions but her eyes were still vacuous and depleted. Asad stared at her with tears filling up his eyes so he took Aasim from her arms but she struggled and collected him back, cuddling him to her chest with her face buried in his neck. Asad stared with broken expression, half believing what she's just said and half not believing because she might just be traumatized and is accusing Aman because she hates him now more than anyone else in the world. But if what she is saying is true, Aman is not going to live for another day under his watch.

Placing his arms around her, he accompanied her to the nearest sofa and sat her down. Her head is still bent in her son's shoulder. When she heard the knock, a smile spread across her face because she knew this is where the Ajujis will be more galvanized than they've ever been in their entire lives. It is going to be written there that the fingerprints found are none other than Aman's.

"Good evening, ACP Abubakar Hammad." Zubairu Ajuji greeted the middle aged man, the one she's met in the hospital.

They exchanged hearty pleasantries that made Mahnoor's stomach coil in revulsion and repugnance. How could they be this close? If they are, then justice might not be served. The other police officers are not seniors, just minors from constables to sergeants which means money can close their mouths quicker than threats. The Ajujis have enough wealth to sponsor each and every one of them so they won't have to even work in future.

"My daughter-in-law here just talked about murder. Care to explain what she is going on about? I feel like she is too mortified and things aren't looking good." Zubairu Ajuji said to the ACP in a voice that's filled with concern but not the real type, pageant and parody.

"Oh, she is very much right. Your grandson has been murdered in cold blood." And then the room is pin drop silent, no one could utter a word.

They've been shocked when Mahnoor said it but then thought about the trauma of losing a son and brush it off but now that the assistant of commissioner of police just confirmed it to them, there is no turning back. What she's said is the truth and she is in her right state of mind, no trauma or any mental disorder. Mahnoor is perfectly alright.

But the questions that are floating with volatility in their heads right now is, who would want to kill Aasim? How did that person kill Aasim or was he really forced to sniff poison? And why did Mahnoor accuse Aman of murdering his own child? Surely, he's got some bad habits now but that doesn't mean he would hate his son enough to kill him even if he was intoxicated. All the sisters had smelled the cigar and liquor in his breath when they stood close to him, they didn't say a thing that will ruin his mood but now they are doubting in fifty fifty.

"Where is the result of the handprint then? She said something about it?" Asad asked the ACP, leaving Mahnoor alone with her son for more lone time she's welcomed and savored.

The ACP removed a paper from his pocket and gave it to Asad who read briskly then shakily drop the paper on the floor then pick it up and gave it to his father who read too and widened his eyes in disbelieve. Mahnoor is still looking down, sniffing her baby's baby powder to relish and keep it in her memories. The paper passed throughout the room but Aman didn't request or took it, he stood stiffly without any flinch at the litigate glances that fell on him.

"Oh, my God! Aman you really killed your own son?" Haleema muttered in disbelieve, her hands shakily moving to close her mouth as she discharged a gasp from it.

Her head swarm, she fell back on the couch with a heap and close her eyes to avoid the splitting headache that is slowly proliferating from her skull. This is not believable, it should be nothing short of nightmare for she cannot endure more pain from her family. First her parents and now the younger brother she's raised? Where had she gone wrong in bringing him up and grooming him to be the perfect gentleman? When she found out about his drinking habits, she didn't talk to him till much later and he promised to stop with time but murder? His own child? This is beyond reasoning.

"It seems so, Mrs. Haleema. Your younger brother killed his own son." ACP Abubakar acquiesced in wonder too, his head tilted as he studied her.

She was his first love, the woman he's wanted to marry but genotype came in their way because she is AS just like he. They were so much in love then but things didn't work out the way they wanted them to and now they have family of their own.

"But... why? Why did you kill him?" Fadwa questioned this time around, her voice barely above whisper but was heard all around the room because it was pin drop silent.

Asad's legs move before he could stop himself and rush to Aman, throwing a hard blow squarely against his jaw then his chest, one across his cheeks but the guy didn't even move. Blood sputtered out from his mouth and splattered across Asad's shirt but he didn't stop, he couldn't. The ACP rushed forward and pull him away, taking him far to the end of the room where he won't see Aman and will be triggered again to beat him black and blue for killing his nephew and causing so much pain to Mahnoor.

Hajiya Hadiza is quiet, too absorbed in her own thoughts to know what is going on around the room. Maybe this is her fate. Whatever she's started to come to love, gets taken away from her within the duration of an eye blink just like her recently born grandson. She hasn't felt the connection with any of her grandsons but Aasim, she felt him deep in her heart but look where she is now, she's lost him. Her grieve knew no bound, her stomach coiling and heart weighted with myriad of pain.

Her body feels so cold, too cold for her coat and her limbs are moving without her endorsement. Her vision keeps getting blurry with tears that won't roll down because for once, she wants to cry out loud for the world to hear and listen to her version of pain. The energy is drained from her body, right from her skull and down to her toes. Her chest keeps tightening, preventing her from breathing properly and surfing through her emotions. For the first time in her life, she is not in control of her body or feelings.

She cannot separate through the surfeit of them. Whether the disappointment and disbelieve that her son killed her grandson should weigh her down or the fact that she's just lost someone she's come to love and connect more with than anyone in her life, not even her husband. She doesn't like him because he looks like his mother or is a cute baby, she fell in love with him the day he was born when she held him in her arms. Her son has made a grave mistake while he was intoxicated, she knew he was from the way he's swayed when they called him to the family room. But why kill your own child? Or had he wanted to kill Mahnoor and mistaken her for the infant in that stupor?

Zubairu could do nothing but stare at his favorite son. He never knew Aman was his favorite child until the day he found out he's ran away from home to further enhance his knowledge on his passion. He was so lost for days, wanting nothing other than have his son close to him. When he came back, his joy knew no bound because he is both proud and enthusiastic about the fact that his son had listened to him for the first time. He didn't want to get him married to Mahnoor but Asad had said no to him for the first time.

Now they are left in a pandemonium of what to do. Protect their son against a scandal or get justice for their grandson...