There was something about her parents gyrating voices that always annoyed Annabelle. Their voices were somehow always clustered together each time they were having an argument, and what she hated most about it wasn't their gyrating voices but the way they would both pretend to be worried, caring parents. She folded her arms the moment they both calmed down. She hadn't heard a word of whatever they had conspired to say this year.

"Are you tired?" her question threw the two older people into another fit but Annabelle wasn't prepared to suffer another minute listening to them and she quickly raised her head to stop them.

"Not another word, Mom, please," she said, her voice small but firm.

"I'm not in the mood to argue with you today," she added and her mother sighed.

"You don't need to visit him; you are someone whom everyone checks on for anything you are doing and everything you do; one mistake and your career will be over. Do you think that if you keep going blatantly like this every year, no one will find out?" she asked and Annabelle folded her arms.

"And what if they find out?" she asked and her question made her mother even more exasperated.

"Annnnna," she called out as if hoping calling her name would bring her back to her senses.

"If your career goes down the drain, do you know what it would mean? Years of hardwork down the drain," she continued as she wore a tired expression, "And we don't want that for you."

Her father chose that time to also chip in, "At the end of the day, we are youe parents and all we want is to ensure your safety and happiness. We love you, and we want to protect you," she said and his words immediately ignited a fire in Annabelle.

"Oh, oh" she started bursting into laughter as her eyes turned cold.

"Did you just say you are my parents, and all you want is to ensure my safety and happiness? You love me and you want to protect me?" she asked and noting her tone and expression, her parents were tongue-tied, unable to say anything.

"You think i've grown up happy after that day?" she hurled the question at them and her mom clutched the edge of her blouse, her eyes fixed on her feet.

"I'm asking you, do you think I have ever felt safe after that day?" she contnued hurling questions at them, her anger flaring up with every question she asked.

"You love and want to protect me? Do I need to remind you, Mommy and Daddy, what you did all those years ago? Did any of that look like love and protection to you?" she questioned them.

"Here you are, shouting and asking me not to go and see him, who is he to you? Do I need to answer that question for you?" Annabelle wasn't stopping.

"He did what you two couldn't do and then all of a sudden you love and protect me? When have you ever done that? Tell me one time where you have loved and protected me," Annabelle asked.

"Mom, talk to me; Dad, answer me.

"Tell me one time where you have done so! You only love yourselves and you two are the better at protecting each other – the best and fitting for husband and wife," she added.

"Don't you get tired of pretending? Pretending that you are my parents and pretending to care? I see the way you both look at me and no parents look at their children like that," Annabelle finished.

"Anna," her mom whispered and Annabelle grabbed the bag on the chair and, without looking back, walked out of the house.

Her manager had a solemn look as she got into the car. "Another argument?" she asked but she had clearly heard Annabelle's sharp and imposing voice, how she had questioned her parents and shut them down with only a few words. No child was supposed to be able to talk to their parents that way but when parents fail grossly in protecting their child and at their duties, they become guilty and, in Annabelle's case, have no refute or case against their children.

"Let's go, we are late," she replied, relaxing in her seat and closing her eyes.

The drive was smooth and quiet, and by the time the car came to a slow stop, Annabelle's eyes opened on their own and she stared at the familiar gates and the bold inscription in front of them. BADEJO CENTRAL PRISON.

The gates were immediately thrown open seeing who it was and the car immediately drove inside, parking it in the parking lot. Annabelle adjusted her expression as soon as she got down from the car, opening the boot and carrying out the two baskets in the back.

"You can go; I'll call you when I'm ready," she told her manager and the latter shook her head. On this day every year was the day when Annabelle was the most vulnerable; she couldn't leave her alone. Besides, she had promised Lashe to be with her so she immediately shook her head.

"I brought my laptop so I can work in the car," she responded, and Annabelle smiled at her before walking further into the prison. She gave small smiles to the police attendants as they led her to a visiting room. She immediately grabbed a wipe from the basket and cleaned the table before laying out the contents, all sorts of food and desserts on the table, by the time she was done, the adjacent door opened and a tall guy walked out.

Annabelle's smile got bigger as she ran towards him and jumped into his arms. Annabelle obviously wasn't exactly 30kg but the guy looking anything like a gym bro carried her in his arms without as much as a furrow of his brows, a smile breaking on his lips. The smile mirrored Annabelle's smile so much.

"You still act like a baby; you aren't six or seven anymore," he said with laughter and Annabelle laughed as he lowered her. "Does it matter?" she asked and without thinking, he shook his head before responding, "No, it doesn't matter."

Annabelle sat down as soon as he sat down and stared at his already mature face. He looked a bit like Annabelle, with his straight nose and the extremely good-looking face; one would have to look twice or thrice but by then one would be able to determine that they were both from the same family.

"How are you?" he asked and Annabelle shrugged. "Normal and the usual," she replied flatly and the guy raised his head, pulling an empty plate to himself as she served him some food.

"No, Ann, you don't do that to me. What's wrong?" he pressed on and Annabelle sighed.

"Well, nothing, to be honest. I just finished my first-year exams so now I'm in my second year," she replied and the guy smiled brightly. "I figured I tried calculating each semester in my head. So how are your new friends? please tell me you made at least one friend," he said, and Annabelle pouted.

"Cyrillll," she whined and Cyril burst into laughter. "I know you, okay?"

"Well, I did make a friend, just one, though. Her name is Jemimah and she's honestly sweet and nice and we kind of just clicked," she admitted and Cyril just nodded his head, his mouth full of food.

"You are not going to allow me to eat alone, are you?" he asked and Annabelle chuckled.

"No, of course," she replied as Cyril dropped his own plate and grabbed another empty plate, serving another portion of food and passing it to her.

"Thank you," Annabelle muttered as she dug into the food. She had had no appetite for a few days now and she had managed to fill her stomach with junk and sweets and she wasn't even surprised that it hadn't escaped Cyril's eyes. Nothing escaped his eyes; that was why he was in prison in the first place.

Because of her.

Night fell before Annabelle rose up from her seat. Cyril pressed her head to his chest and lowered his head to press a kiss into her hair.

"I want you to get one more friend, okay, and maybe a boyfriend next time you are coming, okay? I really wouldn't mind having an actual man to talk to," he said and Annabelle, who was already welling up in tears, burst into laughter.

"Are you saying you don't like talking to me?" she asked and Cyri laughed.

"That's a lie. I love talking to you. You are the best," he replied and Annabelle nodded, staring at him.

"Take a picture?" she asked. "Just your face," she quickly added and Cyril nodded to her. There wasn't a universe where he would be able to say no to her. He lowered his head and Annabelle clicked a picture.

"I'll stare at it when I miss you," she said and Cyril chuckled, staring at the photo collage on the table. "Well, I have a lot to look at," he responded, and they both laughed.

Their hands were entwined as the alarm sounded. No one was willing to let go; her eyes were turning red and Cyril slowly patted her hair.

"See you next year, Ann," he said softly and Annabelle nodded, finally letting go of his hand and watching as the door opened and the police officers led him away. Tears rushed to her eyes again but she refused to cry as she carried the baskets and headed out.

Her manager had kept to her words and waited for her, as soon as Annabelle got into the car, she felt more lightweight than usual. She stared at the picture she had taken and a soft smile hung at the edge of her lips as her manager reversed the car and drove out.

She was still staring at the picture when a request for an incoming video call appeared on her phone. It was from Uche. She stared at the request for a long time before she pressed the accept button.

Uche's clean face came into view immediately; a smile was plastered on his face as he spoke, "Hey Annabelle, how are you today?" he asked but before Annabelle could reply, he already noticed her mood and her blank expression.

"Are you okay?" he asked quietly and Annabelle found herself shaking her head.

"I'm not," she replied quietly.

Uche seemed taken aback by her response and seemed to pause for a moment but the next second, he was out of the video call frame, making Annabelle furrow her brows and before she could unilaterally end the call, he appeared back holding a guitar.

"I'll play for you; how about that?" he asked and Annabelle nodded, wondering what he was going to play.

She watched as Uche adjusted the phone, sat down and began strumming the guitar. She didn't know what tune or song he was playing but it did wonders to her soul; she felt lighter than she had before, and her heavy heart seemed to be dispersed with every string and tune.

None of the two of them noticed how long he had played for but by the time Uche was asking the second time if she felt better, Annabelle had a helpless smile on her face.

"You know, you must really be special," she started and UChe furrowed his brows, both curiously and with a prideful smile.

"I know I'm special, but I want to know why you think I'm special," he replied and Annabelle shrugged.

"Today is one day that I have the worst moods ever. Over the years, nothing has usually been able to make me feel better; the alcohol only numbs me but today was the first time in a long time that i can say I have actually felt better and you did that" she replied slowly and Uche chuckled.

"I'm glad I was able to do so," he said, even though more than half of what Annabelle said made the wheels in his head turn.

What was so special or different about today?

Over the years?

"Do you want to go somewhere with me this time next year?" she asked and Uche nodded his head.

"I don't mind."

Annabelle chuckled, "You won't even ask me where?"

"Well, I'll go anywhere you want me to."

----------------------------------------------

Hi guysss, it's been a while. I'm so sorry for the lat update but this is going to be a mass update so be prepared for it. Special thanks to my younger brother for holding my neck. Thank you to everyone who sent me a dm and a mail, I'm fine and yes I'm stipp updating HYT. you don't need to worry that I'll leave this book uncompleted.

Now, i hope the wheels in your head and turning and you are imagining who Cyril is, I promise you, he's not who you think he is? And what happened? Why can she only see him once a year? Well time will tell.

Also thank you so much for the 50k reads. I love you guys so much.