Sorry for not updating the day I was supposed to. Sorry for stalling on updates these days in fact. It's just that its very hard from where I am to be consistent, but I am trying. Even if its once every month or twice in a month, I'll try to be keeping the updates more steady from now on. Lemme make it a promise.

The only thing stalling TMBT updates is the chapter I keep dividing because of length, but oh well, the more the merrier, abi? We dey here. After this, I will start the official countdown for the end of the book. I started it before and stopped since I kept dividing many chapters, but Omoh, this first book is nearing its end closer and closer with every update, but with the countdown, we will be able to anticipate all that comes with ending of Too Many Broken Things Book One! Yay!

The Song for this Chapter is Cradles by Suburban, and the video/song is in the Media above! {The Song is in the Media above}

And, Omoh, I cannot wait to see your reactions to this one. This is one of the chapters I have been itching to write for a Long, Long time! But, Omoh, we are almost done with the first book of TMBT o, having we are approaching the ending scenes that are major choking highlights, lol. Anyways, from now, till the end of this book, be at alert, because everything is going to start escalating to its worst, but damn it, I am living for the incoming and ULTIMATE chaos that marks the end of Too Many Broken Things Book One!

Are you?

~DABI~

The few seconds that I stood there, watching and reading the room, after Casper's revelation was the worst torture that I had had to go through yet.

And, no, it was not just what he had told me.

It wasn't just what he had just said about his Mum having something to do with my Mum and Stephen, and where they had been all these while. It was everything else, especially the ridiculous absurdities he spewed concerning where we both lived.

Ridiculous nonsenses.

Nothing has ever been wrong with where we lived.

Or at least, not the way Casper explained it.

Our street was surrounded with vibrant neighborhoods and no Honda Cars paid any special visits. No one dropped any 'black bags' in any garages. And there was no secret stash either. It was just my abusive devil of Father and his wicked mistress, Delilah, who paraded the house in a red dress, blood coloured bright lip-stick, pale light skin, and long witch-like nails, co-torturing his house, along with him.

That's how it had been for Years.

That's how it had always been since Stephen and I turned seven.

That's how it has always been.

That's how it has always been.

That's how it has always been.

That's how it has always been.

That's how it has always been.

That's how it has always been.—

"Dabeluchi."

Silence.

There was a silence that suddenly ensued.

I heard my name, and afterwards, there was the oddest silence ever.

And, no, it wasn't the one that had been broodingly lingering all around the room for what seemed like an eternity; it was rather one within me, one that shut down the resonant, distorted voices that had been replaying like broken mixed tapes in my head.

Complete Silence.

And, truthfully, I was hardly used to this kind of silence. In fact, I never experienced it before. The voices were always there, always saying something or whispering something, even when I didn't realize it. Sort of how a song could be playing over and over in your head all day, to the point that you forget it was there; you forget that there is noise in your head. You just sort of lose consciousness with it entirely. As though it weren't even there. Well, until, you realize its presence again. And, then, the cycle goes on and on.

It was the same with the voices in my head. Only that this time, the silence was louder than the voices had ever been. So loud in my head that I had to shiver.

It scared me. A whole lot than I showed. In a twisted way, those subtle, broken whispers and distorted laughter gave me totality. Make me feel complete. Gave me some sense of direction and a bit of control in my life. And, as much as I hated them, they had become a part of me. Sort of like an addiction. A dark, mind crumbling, on and off addiction.

And, in that moment, without them telling me what to feel, how to act, a reaction to give, or an emotion to give, I was in an eerie state of neutrality. I felt nothing. Nothing. And, in a strange way, feeling nothing seemed like the strongest form of emotion yet.

"Dabeluchi?"

I traced my eyes from the tiles on the floor, eyes that if reflected what I felt inwards, should have showed nothing too. Nothing but deadness, neutrality, an empty emotionless stare. And, I gazed with that lostness, that nothingness, ahead of me, singling out Casper who had called my name two times in a row, from the bunch.

At this moment, I should have felt Shock. I know I should, because his revelation concerning my Mum and Stephen, should have sent me into a state of crisis. Knowing that all these while, I was crying, worrying, and panicking about the whereabouts of my Mum and Stephen, and he knew, they all knew, and said nothing. Not a single word. It was enough to knock me off my feet.

I should have felt disappointment too. But damn it, I had felt enough disappointment with for one night that I could hardly bring myself to feel it again.

"Dabeluchi." He called me again, and this time, with a cautiousness in his tone, and a subtle, but vivid look of observation in his eyes. "Where you listening to anything I was saying?"

I deadpanned. "No."

"Well, um, that's okay, because I was actually saying—"

"—Where are they?"

I cut Casper off in mid sentence, every part of me unwilling to pay any mind to the irrelevant bullshit pieces of Information that he was about to spew.

"Where are they?" I asked again, a heavy edge laced into my tone. "Where is my mother? And where is Stephen? Where did you people take them all these while they had gone missing?"

Casper stared at me with a blank unreadable expression, but even with the lack of vulnerability or emotions in his eyes, I could still somehow pick out that fact that my question made him uncomfortable. I wasn't sure how. Maybe it was because of the way he seemed to take in one shallow, but noticeable, audible breath after three seconds of his impassive stare.

Or, the way he carefully evaded the question, pinching the bridge of his nose avoidantly, before going back to continue what was saying before I had interrupted him.

"Stephen's strange visit was a catalyst for my Mum's involvement in this matter," Casper told me, my gaze remaining on him in a dead stare as he spoke, "When I had gotten home that day from Saturday Lessons in School, she confided in me her experience with your brother that morning. Mum said that she was left absolutely mortified by Stephen. He had left the most distorted looking drawings at the doorstep and would not leave her alone, until she got the message. Which she did, eventually.

She easily came to the understanding that the fairy tale life she was preferring to think she was living in was all one big illusion, and nothing about the Valley indeed was right. Nothing about my father, and most fucking definitely, nothing about your father was right too. My father has his secrets, I know, and they are dark, but Dabeluchi, your father is way worse. And, who knows the extent to which Stephen knows. I mean, for your brother to come crying out for help, unbehalf of the family, he must have been aware that as far as you, your mother, and he are still living under the roof of Chief Ugochukwu Elliot Orji... Goodness, you're surviving on borrowed time.—"

"—Where are my mother and brother?" I cut him off, the gritting of my teeth made me realize that I was getting my emotions back, and that dark cloud of brooding, disturbing frustration that started to hover over my head conformed it.

"It happened roughly a month ago," He continued, ignoring my question again. "Stephen, coming to our door step with the drawings, and my mum, confiding in me, with the intent of helping your family out. And, of course, long before then, I had already started working with the Igbo Sisters. They wanted me in at Yure's party, but I did not agree to be a part until about a week later. I joined them, because I thought that I couldn't confide in my Mum again after her rather aggressive reaction when I told her about what I had found in my father's garage.—"

"—Where are my Mother and Brother?"

"The Igbo Sisters told me that it had been a while after Chika got you into the clique that she told them the truth about the real reason she befriended you in the first place," He continued, paying my question no mind. "Originally, they thought they just had a new addition to the group, but Chika confided in them that the plan was to get justice for you and your family, and make your father pay for what he was putting you all through. By then, Chika knew nothing about The Valley and its dark secrets; she didn't even know anything about your father's evil plan to—"

"—I don't care!" I cut him off, speaking through gritted teeth, "Tell me where my Mother and Brother are!"

Casper stopped himself, as though my interruption was enough to make him have second thoughts about the rest of what he was about to say. He seemed to calculate in his head the rest of what was about to leave his mouth, mapping out his future words carefully.

"The only thing the Igbo Sisters knew was that your father was abusive and immersed in Infidelity," He rather told me, "They had their own agenda, to get justice for your Mum who had been confined in the house of a man who would not respect her. In turn, save you and your brother from the trauma you were subjected to. And this may be hard to believe, but leaking your family problems like that on Social Media was not originally part of the plan.—"

I. don't. Care.

"—In fact, there was never any specific plan to get this justice, really," He was still talking, "Not until I had told them about Stephen and the drawing book. And while Chika was following up the contents of Stephen's drawing book, she found out some disturbing and threatening information concerning your father..."

He stopped for a bit, and cast a glance at the Sisters behind him, who were surprisingly not trying to stop him anymore. He seemed to have communicated a warning to them, some sort of way of telling them that he was not going to hold back giving me information.

Frankly, I didn't care to know what he wanted to say. All I wanted to know was where they had taken Mum and Stephen to. That was it. Fuck his cock and bull stories!

"I was not surprised when Chika told me that your dad was involved in some dangerous shady business, and you see, since I had caught up on my Dad's dirty business red handed, there was no saint needed to tell me that the both of them were working together," He told me. "The Honda Cars that paid both your father and my father visits regularly was added proof, really. But, that was not even what had triggered the last minute plan to expose your father to the entire Media, Dabeluchi; we had found out about a sequence of carefully mapped out things, plans, that your father had in stall. Things that could potentially and permanently damage your family. For Life.—"

I felt a knot in my throat, but I ignored it after I had swallowed it.

"—We were slowly starting to understand why Stephen seemed so edged up and desperate to get someone, anyone, to take you guys out of that house." Casper elaborated. "It all made much more sense. And when we had had finally understood and come to terms with your father's long term, wicked plans, everything happened fast..."

My silence had probably urged him to continue; I fought the urge to care to know more.

"It happened very fast. Too fast," He explained, "Chika called for an emergency meeting that day after School. We wanted to come up with ways to avert his plans and fast, but no one seemed to have a clever plan in mind. We are just kids, Dabeluchi, there is very little that we could have been able to do with our own minute power. Chika suggested we exposed him the best way we could, through the power of the Media. The School Media was the first choice, easily we would be able to get attention from the bigger forms of Media in the country, since CH Media is a big deal, but the Sisters said that when they had tried to talk Nana into it, he didn't co-operate."

That knot in my throat... It thickened.

"Nnaemeka Obi firmly refused to help us."

I looked behind Casper, where Ebere Onuoha's voice had sprung up from, for the first time tonight. The twin, whom I had just noticed, was not with her clone, stood there, leaning against the door with an aloof expression in her face, showing she felt little to nothing, concerning the drama and tension that had built the atmosphere in the room.

It was hard to read her in this situation. It was not an unusual thing to raise question marks on some things the Onuoha Twins did, but now, I could not even pick up or read the slightest hint off her. Chika had showed a range of reactions tonight, from anger to frustration and even tears. Soma's eyes had darted around the room many times, and it was clear the discomfort and guilt and shame that washed over her the entire time. Many times, she'd surrendered to a downcast gaze at the floor, staring at the tiles in heavy remorse...

But, Ebere? Wow. Her eyes were vague. Although, sharp like a night cat, like she was fully aware of everything that was going on, but hardly fazed. Thoroughly indeterminate. And even the many colors of the rainbow that glistened on the lids of her eyes, glittering all over its corners tonight, did little to nothing to bubble her demeanor up. She looked very impassive.

"No matter what we said, he hardly cracked," She said, her voice in a deadpan. "Then, at the end of the day, his little uptight and rude friend — whatever the fuck his name is supposed to be— told us to get lost."

I was not sure if it was the talk on Nana or the specific singling out of Ebere that raised the question for me all of a sudden, but I wondered to myself for one, brief moment;

Where is Ebube Onuoha, anyway?

"So," I wrapped my head around all I had been told, cooking a summary off of it. "How much exactly did you guys tell Nana Obi about my life?"

Ebere answered, flatly. "Nothing."

"So, for him to adamantly refuse, shouldn't that have been clear that there was something off about this entire idea you guys had?" I had to question her.

"Look, Dabi, I am far from a Saint," she was quick to start responding, and even if she hardly gave off much emotion, I sensed a subtle softening in her tone. "I will not stand here to tell you shit about how I am perfect and all I ever wanted was to free you like you're a fucking hummingbird or some shit; I'm not that good a person and frankly, in many ways, if not for Chika, I may have not even cared enough to want to do anything about your situation.

But, yeah, fuck it, you became my friend, abi? And, It's harder not to care after that. I'm not the best person around, but I am not a monster either. That exposure of your father on Social Media had to happen, at the exact time it happened. And, if you were ready to admit that you knew what we knew about your father and his plans, you would understand that we had very little choices and even much more little time on our hands to begin to deliberate on morals.— "

"— Okay," I cut her off with the driest laugh, exuding off me, "Let me pretend like I believe Casper and all he said about airing out my private life on Social Media not being part of the plan originally.— "

The twin stared right back at me, waiting for me to speak on with her back leaning tiredly against the door frame and impassiveness lingering in her eyes.

"—Then, what would be your excuse for not deliberating on Morals right from the Start? Before you claim the idea to mouth off my private life to Social Media came up? All the while you knew I was only befriended to get an easier route to dig up on my life?" I questioned her. "You had almost four years to check yourself or feel guilty about lying to me about the real reason I was befriended and added into your clique. So, what's your excuse for that one? What, so, Chika pulled you into it and you couldn't care less if it would hurt me or not because I was a nobody to you at the time? Or wait— When I did become 'somebody' to you, why then did you keep lying? What's the excuse for that?"

I didn't ask just her, I threw the question to the entire room.

"We were wrong for that, Dabi..."

Soma's voice had sprung up, shaky and frail, and a tone of remorse heavily registered in it. I hated how a part of me softened at the sound of her voice; I hardly showed it anyway, I hated to give her or anyone else that satisfaction at this point.

"We were wrong," She repeated, again. "To be honest, when Chika brought you in initially in Jss3, I was truly excited to make a new friend. The thought of you coming in for some other deeper motive never crossed my mind. I was just genuinely excited to make a new friend... Believe me..."

I couldn't not believe her, even if I wanted to.

Honestly speaking, Chika may have been the first person in the entire Castron High to be so, so nice to me, but Somadina? Damn it, the girl was high as a kite for my arrival. She welcomed me the brightest, wide eyed anticipation, jumping, kicking, and squealing, like I didn't look like a dirty squirrel in the midst of them, a sore thumb that would keep sticking out and spoiling their ever shinning glow.

And back then, I had really appreciated it, because I remembered that I felt very odd on that initial introduction to the entire group. Sort of the feeling you get when you overdressed or underdressed to a party. That odd, open naked feeling of discomfort.

It didn't help that I was fully aware of the kind of mad reputation the Igbo Sisters had in our set. Especially at a time in Junior School when Kids were meaner and more open and blunt about their discrimination and segregation between the Worthy and Unworthy.

Surely, the Igbo Sisters had always been highly praised. Always. I wouldn't say I always admired them, but something about them seemed to always stand out to me. They were gorgeous, always had been, but it was not just the perfect, yet differing facial features, each of them had an aura that just slapped. Something even I could tell at that age was not prevalent to the 'others' in that godforsaken set of Vanity who claimed worthy too.

Something about Chika with her chillness and laid back savagery, that cool girl swag that almost seemed closeted that was stable from Junior School, Soma whose eyes seemed to always glow with some anticipation, as though she was hopping on the colors of a rainbow everyday and on on an eager search to find fairy dust at the end of it, then the twins, whom half the set seemed terrified of, with their identical feline aesthetic, mean girl energy, and 'interesting' fashion choices, even while wearing the Castron High School Uniform.

I had noticed them, but of course, I could not have said the same about them. Before Chika had spoken to me, the Igbo Sisters had denied my existence completely, walking past and even around me in the Hallway like I was a tree, never even glancing for a second in my direction. In their defense, they did not know who I was, and I was just like every other invisible classmate who was not in their clique.

And the only tiniest bit of regard I ever got from one of them before Chika was when Soma had accidentally bumped into me when jumping and squealing about something, and yet, the closest thing to an interaction I had even had with her was her gasping dramatically and saying 'Oh, I'm sorry, boo boo, I didn't see you there!' and hopping off and back to her clique, continuing her glee, while dismissing me in a heart beat.

However, when Chika introduced me into the group, I had never seen more excitement bubbling off a person the way that I saw it practically oozing off Soma that day. She looked at me like I was a puppy that she could not wait to hold, cuddle, and feed gummy bears. It did make me special, and right after she had learned my name, she resorted to calling me 'Lulu Bear' in a heart beat.

Even though she didn't recall that I was the girl she had nearly knocked down in the Hallway, days prior to that.

Or that I used to be in her class, once upon a time, in Primary School.

Or that, as a matter of fact, I was the girl that half the set loathed and craved for her head on a platter because of what I did to Jelanie Jarah.

To be even honest, usually, personalities like Somas' chased me away. Something about people who seemed too happy with the world made me naturally uncomfortable. But something about her lack of fear for me, despite the rumors, and her nice, welcoming demeanor had calmed me immensely. And, then, even if the Onuoha Twins had nearly evaporated me into thin air from the laser sharp, judgement-filled glare they gave me on the original meeting, Soma made me feel very relaxed. Too relaxed to melt under their death stare.

"I genuinely wanted a new friend, Lulu," She told me, sincerely, her eyes reading truth. "I didn't care why Chika brought you in; I didn't know why she did, but I didn't see any reason to find it suspicious either..."

I felt something drop inside of me on hearing Soma say such a thing.

In a good way.

Truthfully, it was beyond me. I was the biggest outcast in the whole set and all of a sudden, was being pulled into one of the most popular female cliques in the set, and Somadina Best was here, saying to my face that there was no reason to be suspicious. Could it really have been true? Could it be true that the first day Soma saw me, she truly couldn't see a defective choice of addition into the clique? That all she saw was a new friend?

"Chika confessed to us a month after she brought you into the clique," She told me, her big brown eyes beaming with clear sincerity, "She told us that she actually kept tabs on you for a while, but she had a good reason. She said you and her were similar, and that you needed help. We never intended to hurt you, Lulu; we just genuinely thought that pulling you closer would help you trust us and open up, but we spent years, trying to get on your good side, trying to get you to open up to us, to let us help you, but it was so difficult, Lulu. So difficult.

You're not the easiest person to gain trust from. So, we did not have a choice. We had to do what we could do in our own little power. We had to find out for ourselves everything that you weren't telling us, and it was never the option to blow your family privacy out to the public like that, but we panicked, Lulu. You aren't safe in the Valley. Neither is your Mum and Stephen. And, I know you know that. I just don't understand why you are trying to deny it. If we didn't do what we did that night and if we don't keep doing what we are still doing right now, concerning your matter, I am not even sure you would have been here with us today, getting angry at us right now and everything..."

She sounded sincere, unlike Chika who was more passive aggressive in all of this. I wanted to antagonize her too. I wanted to believe that, just like Chika, Soma was also a terrible person. But, it was difficult. So difficult. Soma's approach made me want to keep listening, to believe them, but no. I couldn't believe the nonsense they were spewing. In many ways, it tried to evoke a traumatic kind of fear within me. Discarding it as bullshit was easier to do; it made more sense that way.

"And, look, I understand that even after all said and done, we still lied, Lulu," She said to me, "I am sorry about that, and I think Chika is too, believe me.—"

She was cut off by a sigh from Chika, one that even distracted me.

I couldn't decipher if it was a sigh of regret, defeat, or frustration. Or all three. She has resumed her position, sitting on the edge of the rickety bed, with her back subtly hunched over and her elbows resting against the thigh part of her gold dress. She wasn't looking at us, but it was clear she was listening. However, whatever it was that could have been possibly going on in her head, I simply could never been sure.

Dismissing her, I looked back to a remorseful Soma.

"Why didn't you just tell me the truth directly?" I asked her, specifically, "You, at least, Soma, you should have just told me the truth. Why do you have to make me hate you too?"

However, Soma continued speaking.

"It's hard, Lulu," Soma answered, her voice shaking slightly, "It's hard to come clean when you are living in a lie..."

A part of me softened when she said that.

And, no, not necessarily because I accepted that as an excuse. But, because, something about how she said it made me come to the realization that the statement was much deeper than it seemed. I had remembered that I had forgotten how Soma had opened up to us about the façade she was living beneath, her Lie. Making everyone in school believe she was a harmless, little fairy princess who had the innocence of a three year old child while she was secretly struggling with drug addictions.

I also recalled how difficult it was for her to come clean.

And how, even after everything, I —

Gulp.

Instantly, I shut down the rest of my thoughts before they had he chance to play unwanted scenarios in my head.

"Getting caught up in a lie is torture, Lulu," She said to me, "Many times, I wished I had the courage to come clean, but the more days that passed and I didn't confess, the more I dreaded your reaction if you'd ever find out the truth. It always made me a bit more reluctant. Lying to the people you love is so, so torturing.— "

"—Then, don't lie." I deadpanned.

Soma's demeanor seemed to back down, defeated, her body slightly retreating as though she realized that, indeed, there was no excuse for lying.

Ever.

Her words did not stop replaying in my head, though.

Getting caught up in a lie is torture...

The more days that passed and I didn't confess, the more I dreaded your reaction if you'd ever find the truth... It always made me a bit more reluctant...

Lying to the people you love is so, so torturing...

And, I couldn't help but glance at Chika again, wondering if she felt the same way about Lying.

I watched her silently sit there, making no inputs and avoiding chipping into me and Soma's conversation, and I thought to myself; did Chika Chioma really feel the same way about Lying? Lying to me?

Of course, she had told me point blank that she was not sorry, but did she truly mean it?

Chika had dedicated her whole life to taking care of me for years, she had sacrificed so many things for me in the past, and given up her peace to make sure I was okay. So, could I really believe her when she said she didn't care that she had hurt me?

But, if she did care, why would she say that to me? Was it just Pride? Was Chika's ego really bigger than the unconditional Love she had always shown me? Or was Chika just overwhelmed, confused, afraid, potentially bitter, and just, unfortunately, taking it out on me?

I had no idea what to think anymore.

"You shouldn't lie to the people you love in the first place," I said, and I was not just talking to Soma, but I was talking to the entire room too.

Especially Chika Chioma.

Somehow, in the heat of all these, I had even almost forgotten that there was much, much more that Chika had to hide. More and more lies. More deceit. Despicable, unforgivable deception.

And, I was talking about Aaron Godson.

It was crazy, almost amusing, how I was the one accused of having the altered reality, when it seemed like everything surrounding Chika Chioma was all crafted by one lie or the other.

However, that realization did little to make me feel better...

As much as Chika had many lies within her, that were most likely eating her up every second of every day; as much as she had needed to confess, not just to me, but to Aaron, whom she had been stringing along and was still stringing along, deceiving him in the false name of Love, I felt like an accomplice too.

I am an accomplice. I knew everything about Chika's lie to Aaron. I was aware she had no feelings for him, and yet, I watched her play with his feelings. I even witnessed her kissing him tonight, and I said nothing, did nothing, because I didn't want to expose a truth that she was not ready to come clean too, yet. It did not matter, anyways. The fact was that I was joining her to hide such a big, awful secret from Aaron.

Wow, you never knew how hard reality could hit you until you found yourself, doing the very things you were judging other people for.

Immediately, I started to understand, to see things from the perspective of the other Sisters, who joined Chika to hide the truth from me.

That was the exact same thing I was doing, joining them to hide the truth from Aaron Godson.

It was ironic, how Casper was in this room with us, in cahoots with the Sisters, and completely oblivious to the fact that they were lying to his best friend, deceiving him. He probably thought he was working with people who he could trust, the only people who knew the details of his family and were out to help him, people who cared about him. Meanwhile, unknown to him, the same people had secrets, dark wicked secrets, lurking behind his back.

And, who was I to judge?

I probably would end up being the most hypocritical in his eyes when he found out the truth about Chika, us, and Aaron. Here I was, angry that my friends lied to me, and meanwhile, I was the one whom Casper had specifically approached that day, asking me, begging me to tell him the truth about Chika's feelings towards Aaron.

I remembered every bit of our conversation.

How he seemed distressed, scared to death, and worried about Aaron.

"Aaron has been missing his sister a lot, lately," I remember Casper telling me, and I was shocked at how fast he was revealing such sensitive information to me. His desperation was clear; it was heart breaking. "And, I know he doesn't show it with the way he jokes and laughs and shit, but for years now, he's been very closed off. Call it boundaries, if you may, but he is not so keen on getting anyone into his personal space. Because he knows when he gets attached, he gets too attached, and that has been the genesis of all the heart ache he has ever tried to heal from."

My heart beat relentlessly, as I recalled that evening, and the dread from that day started to come back to me all over again. I felt the guilt too, eating me alive.

"Promise me you will say the truth," He had pleaded with me, "Promise."

And, I remembered how his voice shook when he asked the question.

"Is Chika playing Aaron?"

Now, tell me how I was supposed to betray Chika like that, and tell Casper the truth.

Was it my fault that I would have rather lied for my friend that night? Give her the chance to be the one to come clean herself, instead of exposing her to Casper? Did I do a bad thing?

Truthfully, I didn't even know anymore. If I was equally as terrible as the Sisters. If I had the right to even stand before them right now, before Casper too, and get angry at them for lying to me.

When I was a liar too, just like them.

Biting the bottom of my lip, I sighed in defeat.

I wasn't going to dwell on their betrayal right now, or if I was a liar like them or not, a terrible person. Not when more pressing matters were at hand. With that decision, I traced my downcast gaze back up, finding Casper's eyes, as one question I was dying to hear the answer for, escaped my lips.

"Where are my Mum and brother?"

There was no telling that Casper knew this question was for him. The way that his pupils seemed to flicker light and his lids twitched slightly, as though it was a question that has him in a chokehold, was enough for me to be able to tell.

And, I had to ask him again.

"Casper Bassey... Tell me where they are. Now."

He sighed, answering me.

"My Mum took them away."

I narrowed my eyes at the vague, bullshit answer.

"Excuse me?"

He repeated himself, elaborating further.

"I said my Mother took your Mum and Stephen away," he said to me, "That evening we talked, in front of the porch of your house. Remember?"

I nodded. Of course, I remembered. That was the same day that I had got fed up with Delilah. The say that I had lost it and burned her face with a hot, pressing iron. The day I ran away from Home. The day that Marcus Acha took me into his house, for safety. I recalled every bit of that day. From start to bottom. Every detail.

"That evening, your father tried to burn down the house, Dabeluchi," He told me, "With your Mother and Stephen inside the building."

I gulped, hard. Images of Fire and Blood distorted in my head; long lasting past traumas threatened to haunt me along with them.

"Are they okay?" I asked Casper, "Did they get hurt, Cas? Is that why you are so afraid to tell me what really happened?"

"I am not sure how much I am supposed to tell you," He told me, truthfully, "But, there was so much chaos that day. Minutes after I had left you that day, after our talk, my Mum and I heard a scream from your house, and in seconds, there was a mad racket: from glass breaking to furniture falling to sounds of punches and kicks and other forms of assault, and instantly, we knew something was going wrong. By the time we reached your house, we found out that you had already ran away, the screaming was from the injured lady in your house, the sounds of racket were your Father physically abusing your Mum, and the house was already in flames, with fire ruining every part of it, practically burning it the ground."

Fuck.

I had heard about a fire that broke out of the House, after I had ran away, but I never was sure what caused it or how it went. It was one of the reasons I was terrified and worried about Mum and Stephen, if they were okay or not. I hadn't known it was this graphic.

It sounded like History replaying itself again.

Petrified, I asked Casper, again.

"My Mum and Stephen," I said, "Are they okay? Did they get hurt in the fire?"

"Stephen currently has a burn injury on his left hand, from the fire," He told me, "It's bandaged and still in the process of healing, Dabeluchi."

"And," I said, expecting him to continue, "What about my Mum?"

He seemed to pause, glance back the the Sisters uncomfortably, before looking back to me. The discomfort in his body language and the subtle fear in his eyes horrified me. I imagined the worse. And, in more discomfort, he rubbed the back of his neck as he slowly revealed the truth to me.

"Dabi, I don't know how to tell you this, but she got a lot of burns—"

"—Casper, is my mother dead?"

He backed up slightly, caught off-guard by my blunt question.

"No," he immediately answered, "No, Dabi, she is alive..."

"So?" I questioned, getting frustrated, "What then are you still hiding from me?!"

"She's just in bad shape, Dabeluchi," He told me, sincerely, "Your mother is in very, very bad shape. Physically and Mentally."

Panic growing slowly within me.

"Elaborate."

He did, immediately.

"Her burns nearly cost her her life," Casper told me, "She spent a night at the Hospital, before she was eventually discharged. My Mum took her in too, where she kept Stephen. But it seemed your Mum got really affected by the fire, traumatized even; she started exhibiting extreme paranoia, and many times, she tried to escape, because she swore she saw your father in the building."

Immediately, my memory was draw back to a while back when I had gotten those disturbing texts from my Mum, and how she had begged me to find her, insinuating she was in grave danger.

"So, was he in the building?

I questioned.

I had to ask Casper, just to have been assured or not.

He scoffed at the question.

"Impossible," came his answer, "First off, after my Mum had stormed your burning house with help and the Police, your father shamelessly ran away. He has not been in sight and nobody knows where he is, till this day. And, your Mum is in the safest of hands, Dabeluchi. Somewhere your father could never dare to show his face in. Unless he wanted to get caught, immediately."

"My father is not afraid of anybody, Casper," I told him, "If he wanted my Mum, he would look for her, and he would find her. And if that happens, you have no idea the evil things that man is capable of doing."

"You're wrong, because I do," He countered easily, "Remember our dads are the best of friends. Birds of the same feathers. I know exactly what your father can do. And so does my Mum. That is why your Mum and Stephen were hidden away from him. Protected. After my Mum had rescued your family from the burning house and we uploaded your father's doings onto the Internet, she doubled the security. She said it was definite that even if he was in hiding, he was coming for your Mum. Not just her. Stephen, too. And, you, Dabeluchi."

Fear latched onto my throat, gripping my esophagus tightly.

"Was your Mum also in on the plan to expose my father on the 'Net?" I asked Casper, "Did she do it because he ran away and they needed to find him? Because she knew he would come looking for us? Was it a ploy to catch him? To lure him into their trap?"

"No," Casper answered, shaking his head. "Mum had nothing to do with that part, Dabi. That one was all on us." He looked between himself and the Sisters, around him, a downcast look lingering in the depth of his irises. "And, my Mum was angry at us for making a drastic decision without her permission. Especially one as risky as that, that could have put all of us, your Mum and Stephen in grave danger. But, like I said, exposing your family secrets were never originally part of the plan. Yes, we were looking for information that would be enough to get your family justice, but it wasn't until we found out the kind of plans your father had against the family that we decided to take the risk.

And, my mother had long wanted to take your family away from that house too, because she also knew the evil things that Chief Ugochukwu Orji was planning. However, it wasn't until the fire that she decided to take action. And after the fire, Chika was devastated and angry. She spent hours, staring at your Mum's unconscious body in the Ward, until she was asked to leave the room. And, when she heard that your father had ran away, coupled with the fact that, at that time, we were not even sure if your Mum was alive or not, she became very angry."

"We were all angry too," Soma came in, chipping, "But, Chi Ma, she was particularly livid. She made sure we collated all our evidences and we started to look for every way to expose your father and all he had done. We should have informed you, directly, about all these, but you never seemed to want to accept anything happening in the Valley, and we were afraid you would lash out and do something that would throw everyone, including you, into serious problems. So, we worked behind your back, because your father is still on the loose and there is still a storm coming, Lulu. And, now that we are so close to finally getting a hold on Chief Ugochukwu Orji, it would be a very, very sensitive and dangerous time to be careless."

"So, where is she?" I asked still, probing, eyes darting around the room from Casper to the Sisters. Especially Casper. "Where exactly is it that you took my Mum and brother into? Where are they right now? Tell me. That's what I want to know!"

"They're safe, Dabeluchi," Casper answered me, "In a Care Center."

Ripples probably formed on my forehead upon my confused frown.

"What do you mean 'Care' Center?" I had to ask him.

"There was a lot going on, Dabi," He said to me, and I noticed the subtle stalling of his words, and deciphered that clearly, there was something she was hiding from me, something he was too worried to confess. "With Stephen, but especially with your Mum. So, they had to be taken in into a center for specific type of people with 'certain kinds of conditions', Dabi."

There was thick spit lodged in the middle of my throat, stuffing itself there and making it hard to breathe. The realization was hitting me now: what Casper was trying to tell me, and why he was worried about voicing it out. Multiple sirens were going off in my head.

"Casper Bassey, my Mother and brother were taken to a psychiatric Hospital?"

His eyes fluttered, lips smacking awkwardly, giving me all the confirmation that I needed.

"Mum doesn't like to call it that," He said to me, having the audacity to even try to correct me. Massaging his temple softly, he calmly told me, "She doesn't like to put tags or labels on it that would make the habitats uncomfortable."

I stared at him, dumbfounded still.

"She had been working on starting up that place for a while and with a few friends, she was setting things in motion. However, the sudden incident of your Mum and Stephen pushed her to quicken things up and take more priority in the business she had been stalling for a while," he continued telling me, "Your mother and Stephen are well taken care of, Dabeluchi. They eat three square meals per day and have specialized professionals, doctors, following them up daily. And, it is all free of charge, Dabeluchi."

The sound of that...

Even if I wanted to be angry at how busy things had been behind my back, a feeling of relief washed over me.

Getting Mum to eat was always a struggle. Stephen only ever ate when he left his bedroom. And, truthfully, we barely had enough from Dad and Delilah to even scuffle from. We lived like dogs in our house; but there, Mum and Stephen had a balanced diet. Everyday. Wow.

"And, Stephen is holding up a lot faster," He opened up to me.

I piqued, interested, eyes widening with interest and an eagerness for Casper to continue what he was saying.

"He isn't speaking still," he clarified, "but, my Mum, she had been able to win his trust over, somehow. The doctors can't get anything out of him, but Mum is able to communicate with him in a different way, Dabi."

I saw relief in his eyes when he said that, and needless to say, I felt a bit of that relief too.

"How?" I asked him. "How does Stephen communicate with her then, if he can't speak?"

The side of Casper's lips stretched out into a thin smile, as he answered.

"His drawing book."

I stared at Casper, unable to comprehend properly.

"His drawing book?" I had to repeat, questioning.

He nodded easily, and took his time to elaborate.

"That book was the very basis of my Mum stepping in, in the first place, after he had dropped pages of it on her front porch," He told me, sincerely, "And, that book was probably as important as a Life to Stephen, because when he and your Mum were rescued, he was found, unconscious, and with his drawing book, latched onto him, literally gripping and hugging them into his body, like his life depended on it. My Mum knew there was more to that book. More than she could probably imagine."

My breath was hitching, but it all made sense.

Stephen did prioritize that book more than anything else. He never let anyone touch it, not even me. The last time I managed to open it, all I had seem was a pair of breasts, and Stephen had nearly lost his mind, when he walked in on me.

It shocked me. Moved me, slightly. How Casper's mother managed to get my brother to share his diary with her. I wondered how on earth she could get someone as closed off as Stephen to share one of his most personal belongings with her.

I had lived with him for ten years since he stopped speaking and I had never gained that kind of trust from my own, mute brother.

"It was not easy, Dabi," Casper confessed, "Him dropping those pictures at our doorstep was only desperation at first, but it took my Mum sleepless nights to fully comprehend Stephen and get him to share information with her. He hasn't spoken to anyone yet, not even her, but damn, his drawings could speak a thousand words, Dabi."

I could only imagine...

"And, also," Casper chipped in, fondling with the bag where I knew that Stephen's drawing book was kept hostage in, "Mum wanted to know why his drawing book was so dear to him, to the point that it was the only thing he knew, even at the verge of dying in that fire. When Stephen started to trust her, she studied his drawing book, and noticed a pattern in it."

I peered at Casper, eyes wide open, ears piqued with even more interest, and heart laced with subtle, very subtle anxiety.

"Pattern?" I repeated.

He nodded. Elaborated.

"Most drawings in his book seemed to follow a sequence," he said, "There were drawings of everyone who lived in your house, doing different things, from the basics to the extremes. There were pictures of your Mum cleaning the house for example, slaving, and then, there were pictures of your father, hitting her, many of them. In most of the drawings, you and your Mum had no eyes, no nose and no mouth, but still, each drawing was able to depict, clearly, a graphic and torturing sequence of events, featuring you and your Mother."

Subtly, I felt the hairs on my skin start to stand. But nothing could have prepared me for the bombshell Casper had next, not the shivers of cold that whooshed through me on him saying it.

"We eventually learned, Dabi, that all along, Stephen was drawing everything that was happening in your House."

I had no idea how exactly to feel about that...

Having someone document every single thing that truly went on beneath the gates of my house made me uncomfortable. It almost felt threatening. In many ways I was not ready to admit.

"He kept tabs almost every day," Casper told me, truthfully, "Each page of Stephen's drawing book had a date, and all the dates were in order, as though it were a diary he was keeping. Sequential. His drawing book is like this picture diary of some sort where he documented everything that happened inside the Orji Mansion. Everything, Dabeluchi."

My tongue was tied. I could neither speak nor think of anything to say.

"The last thing he drew before the fire was an image of you, running away from the House, with a pressing iron in your hands," Casper told me, "When we brought him into the Centre, and returned his drawing book to him, he got busy again, documenting everything around him in pictures. That was how my Mum started to pick up on his habit."

"Why on earth would Stephen dedicate his life to doing something so traumatic?" I asked, not knowing whom my question was being thrown to, specifically, "No wonder he isn't able to heal yet. He is forcing himself to be alert, to relive every terrible second of what happened in our House. Is that not dangerous?"

Casper seemed to chuckle, humorlessly, at my question.

"Is it any better to deny Reality and live in an Illusion though?"

He asked me.

I stared at him, unsure of how to answer.

"At least, Stephen's book is helping in the Investigation, Dabi," he told me. "We need enough information to gather enough evidence. Sure, your dad has a stained reputation, right now, in the Media. However, a defamation is not going to be enough to put Chief Ugochukwu Orji behind bars and save your family from his brutal hands, but solid, corroborative evidence? We could get there, Dabi."

"And, what about your father?" I asked him, carefully, "Implicating my Dad would mean implicating him, too. Is your Mum not threading risky parts, betraying her dangerous husband in order to save a family she barely knows nothing about?"

"My Father adores my Mother," He answered, "Yes, I can admit that my father has never laid a finger on her. And, he treated her like a Queen. His queen. But, my father has some dark secrets too. He may not be an abusive husband, but he is far from being a good father or even a good person. And, just because, he treated my mother well, that does not mean that she will sit back, watch him be an evil human being, and do nothing about it."

I actually stepped back, overwhelmed by so much information that my head could not carry.

"Th-There's just so much," I said, my words coming off in stammers, a pathetic stutter, "H-How is so much going on behind me that I am just finding out now? It-It just feels weird. I don't know to feel a-about all of t-this—"

"—If we told you, Dabz, you would have instantly called bullshit."

I looked behind at Chika, who spoke, even without looking at me. Her sitting posture on that bed was the same, unchanging, and with those elbows against her thighs and eyes that locked confidently with the broken tiles of the floor, she continued speaking.

"Sometimes, some things are not just supposed to be done at a particular time, Dabeluchi," She said to me, her tone straight to the point and unshaken, "If we told you we were lying to you all these years about the basis of our friendship, you would have wanted to know why. Like you have done, tonight. We would have told you the truth, but the probability of you actually believing us and not believing us would have been in an unequal ratio, with the higher chance that you'd have called bullshit on our stories. If that happened, knowing you, you would get livid. And, then, try to take matters into your own hands. Again knowing you, things would not end well. Not for you. Not for any of us either. Do you think I am stupid enough to take such a bloody risk, Dabeluchi?"

I stared at Chika, and had no idea what emotion to feel off her behavior.

However, I was not going to dwell on her. Not when I still needed to know...

"...The Address."

Casper looked at me, blinking in confusion.

"Tell me the Address," I repeated myself, "Where your Mum have my Mother and my brother, Stephen, kidnapped."

He backed up, shocked. A puzzled frown drew creases on his forehead, as he stepped back, flabbergasted by what I had said.

"Give me Stephen's drawing book."

I deadpanned.

Ebere was still leaning against the door, a subtle wary edged onto her face.

"Give it to her," the twin advised Casper, her tone at bay. "Maybe, if she sees things for herself, she will understand."

Reluctantly, the drawing book was handed over to me.

Unfortunately, I had other ulterior motives.

Analyzing the information that Casper had given me about this book, how Stephen documented everything about our life in that book, from day to day. How he did that, in sequence, following us everything about his life, our life, in order, I flipped the pages of his book.

I flipped.

And flipped.

And continued flipping.

With speed, I jumped through dozens of pages in the span of a Nano second, skipping pages and pages that had pictures of me, Mum, and Delilah in various, different forms of depiction; and, I skipped pages, over and over, flipping through them, in a desperate attempt to get to the very last page. To the very last drawing that Stephen had made, before this book was 'confiscated' from him.

"What are you doing, Dabeluchi?"

Someone had asked me. I was too unfocused on them to properly let my brain analyze who it was that had thrown the question at me.

"You all have refused to be specific about the location of my family," I told them, hands flipping pages aggressively, in a maddening rush and urgency, "But, Stephen draws everything that goes on in our House, and hence, everything that goes on in his life. That means that somewhere, in this book, I could find out the last thing he drew, and therefore, analyze the last place he had been in! So, if I keep flipping the pages!—"

"—NO!"

Immediately, a strong force drove into me from behind, knocking me down to the ground with brutal aggression. In seconds, the book was snatched away from my hand, and Chika had both my hands in the strongest hold, pushing them away when I tried to grab the book back and with one shove, I was falling over myself, thrown down to the ground by her like I weighed a toothpick.

"DABELUCHI, FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, STOP!—"

"—WHY ARE YOU TRYING TO STOP ME?!"

I roared back at Chika, louder, with a voice like a wounded lion, as I crawled against my bottom on the ground, tears spilling uncontrollably out of my eyes.

"WE ARE NOT YOUR ENEMIES, DABELUCHI!" she screamed back at me, her tone equally aggressive, "THIS IS EXACTLY WHY WE DID NOT WANT TO INCLUDE YOU IN ALL THESE! I JUST KNEW YOU WOULD TRY TO DO SOMETHING FUCKING IRRATIONAL AND STUPID!"

"YOU ARE THE ONE BEING IRRATIONAL AND STUPID FOR THINKING YOU HAVE THE RIGHT TO MAKE DECISIONS FOR MY LIFE, CHIKA CHIOMA!" I screamed at her through tears, on the ground. "YOU MUST BE OUT OF YOUR MIND! YOU KNOW NOTHING ABOUT ME! NOTHING ABOUT MY FAMILY! NONE OF YOU DO! YOU AREN'T THE ONES LIVING IN MY WORLD! I AM!"

"Oh, give me a FUCKING break, Orji! YOU CAN'T EVEN COME TO TERMS WITH ALL THAT IS HAPPENING RIGHT THERE, IN THE VALLEY! YOU DON'T EVEN WANT TO ACCEPT IT, TALK LESS OF INSIDE YOUR OWN FUCKING HOME!"

"AND WHAT DO YOU KNOW?" I screamed back at her, latching to my feet in anger, "What the FUCK do you think you know about my Life!"

"ENOUGH TO KNOW YOU ARE LIVING IN A FUCKING BUBBLE IN YOUR OWN HEAD, DABELUCHI!" She screamed back at me, livid.

"REALLY, CHIKA?" I fired back, even more angry than before. "YOU CALL MY LIFE OF ABUSE A BUBBLE, CHIKA?! ARE YOU BEING FOR REAL?!"

Chika laughed, hysterically, yet humorlessly; her eyes glazed with a thick fiery furnace inside it, when she looked at me.

"You know that's not what I meant, Dabeluchi," she said to me, her voice thickened with certainty, "So, why are you trying to interpret the worst out of my words? Trying to look for every reason to antagonize me in that head of yours?"

"Fuck you, Chika Chioma!" I spat at her face.

"Fuck all this, Dabeluchi!" She fired back, hands flaring in the air in frustration, "All I'm ever trying to do is fix everyone's fucking mess and at the end of the day, I'm the awful person! Fuck this, abeg! If you like, go about your life, pretending like 90% of the shit that happens in your house is non-existent. Like, everyone who has a hand in your suffering is non-existent. Pretend they don't all exist, Dabeluchi! From Leticia to Theresa to Quinn to Hannah and fucking Geraldine too! Erase them all from your story and pretend they don't exist too! Then, tell me to fuck off and accuse me of being a terrible person when I try to step in!—"

Ting!

Those names clicked harsh sirens in my head. Sirens that nearly damaged me and my thinking faculty. Scarred me. But it made me all the more angrier.

And, I directed that anger at Chika Chioma.

"—Fuck you. I don't know those people you are talking about!"

I defended myself, furiously.

She huffed, amused.

"Right," she nodded, a mocking look in her eyes, "And, I suppose the name Nancy does not ring a bell, either? Right, Dabeluchi?"

Ting!

"I said I don't know these people you are talking about!"

Chika ran a frustrated hand through her hair.

"Yes, you do, Dabeluchi," she said to me, exasperation building up the more, in her tone. "Yes, you fucking know them, Dabeluchi! You know who each and everyone of them are, yet, every day, you choose to live your life like they do not exist!"

"I SAID I DON'T KNOW WHAT YOU ARE TALKING ABOUT, CHIKA!"

I exploded.

"Dabi, I know you know that you do!" She countered again, debunking me flatly. Another humorless laugh escaped her as she shook her head at me, and said, "You know what?"

All I could do was stare at her and foam at the mouth, pushing down the multitude of traumas and scars I had suppressed years ago in which she was trying to push back up in me.

"I have watched your tactics," Chika said to her, her voice measured, "Every time that something seems too overwhelming for you to sink in or deal with, your run away from it."

The knob in my throat expanded.

"This is not something you do just physically, Dabeluchi," she said, "It is the way you operate. It's your whole life. Some form of twisted coping mechanism that you have. Once something traumatizes you too much, you run, erase, and recreate.—"

"—You are talking nonsense, Chika.—"

"—Am I?" She looked at me, with eyes wide in question, tilting her head to the side, "Come on, Dabi. Remember the incident with Soma and Miranda, concerning the drugs? We all in this room know that it was you who told Miranda Soma's secret."

"I—" Choke. "I— Chika, I—"

Eyes, instinctively, darted to Soma. The soft, somewhat sad look on her face told me that Chika was not bluffing.

"It was not Miranda I called," I said to Chika, "It was you."

"No, my gee, Miranda Archibong called me," Chika said, correcting, "She called me that day, and told me all you told her and how you kept referring to her as Chika. I still cannot bring myself to comprehend why on earth you would make your mind believe that I was Miranda, of all people, and confide all of Soma's secret in that loudmouth. But, whatever reason you had, you probably regretted it after; it scarred you, so you cooked up a better version of how things went in your head, to cope with your betrayal of Soma. Dabeluchi, isn't that what really happened?"

I opened my mouth to speak... But, no words came out.

"We didn't drag it," Chika said, "Soma insisted we let it go, because you probably never meant to hurt anyone. But, I kept on pondering on what the fuck had inspired you to do what you did, to tell Miranda all you told her about Soma. My only guess was that you were overwhelmed, confused, and distraught. Days before that, I remember you got into a fight with the Onuoha twins because of something you said Miranda had told you about them. And, if I remember correctly, that very day that you called Miranda was the same day that Acha's father had found out you were living in his house and drove you out.

So, I get it; you were stressed, and wasn't sure who to call in your moment of helplessness, because you were already having mixed feelings about our entire clique, thanks to Miranda's gossip on the Twins. You needed someone to talk to. But you were skeptical of us. So, you dialed Archibong's number, because deep down, she seemed like a confidant at the time. But your guilt did not let you accept that you would trust a stranger over friends who have been with you, through thick and thin, over something gossip that was debatable and potentially debunkable. So, then, it was easier for you to illude in your mind, that all along, it was me you were talking to, on the phone. Right, Dabz?"

I...

My head...

"In fact, I decided to test you myself," Chika continued, "I became aware that in any state of extreme emotions you can't control, be it regret, guilt, betrayal, or trauma, you eventually started to adapt that coping mechanism of yours. I suspected that was why you were changing subtle details of your life, in general, tweaking them to your satisfaction, recreating them into a version that was better for you to bear. Especially at this time with the Soma/Miranda mishap, it was clear how fickle your reality was. How easily you could confuse and switch up things. So, I tested you that day, Dabeluchi."

Dumbfounded, I stared at Chika.

"And, you did not prove me wrong."

I swallowed, hardest.

"What are you talking about?" I dared to ask her.

"That night in my house," Chika answered easily, "When I asked you what color the rim of my mirror was. Remember, Dabz?"

I remembered.

The night, of course, not the color of the rim of Chika's mirror.

"I asked you three times, Dabeluchi, to tell me the color of the rim of my mirror."

That wasn't how I remembered it. I could only remember being asked and answering that question, once.

"You said it was Grey," Chika told me.

I frowned. "And?"

"Then, you said it was blue," she added, scoffed lightly, "Then, you said it was auburn, and then, Dabeluchi, you said it was Yellow."

"Okay, so what, I mixed up colors," I came in on the defense, "Everyone sees colors differently."

Chika looked at me, her face in a deadpan.

"Dabeluchi, my bedroom has no mirror."

Chill air whooshed into my back, but I stood still.

"Eh?"

She looked at me, nodded, "Exactly, Dabeluchi."

"I don't—I don't understand."

"Dabz, don't you get it?" Chika said, "You fuck up your own reality so bad that its even easy for an intruder to step into your mind and plant illusions in your head, if they wanted to."

"No.—"

"—Yes," she nodded, eyes beaming with manic certainty. "You run, erase, recreate. That's the sequence, Dabeluchi. You ran away from the guilt of Soma's betrayal, and the same way, you have running away from something that must have happened in the past to you. Something that traumatized you into creating an inaccurate, illuded version of what is really going on in your House, Dabeluchi. Something you are shutting out of your mind. Something worse than the reality you think you are living. Something you are terrified to revisit. Something that, by all means, you don't want to acknowledge.—"

Blood.

Fire.

Blood.

Fire.

"—You are talking nonsense, Chika!" I screamed in defense, lashing out. "The only thing I ran away from was my fucked up Home! Because of what I did to Delilah! Because I was afraid of what my father would do to me!"

"Again with Delilah?" Chika raised a brow at me, the amusement lighting up her pupils, and creeping me out with how unaffected she seemed to be at my attempt to defend myself, and how she already seemed to have the right come back for me. "Again, with this Delilah woman who is always wearing nothing but a red dress, every day of her life, Dabeluchi?"

I—

Words betrayed me.

"I-I burned her face, Chika," I said to her, my voice shaking and words, stuttering, "My dad would have killed me if he walked in on me and saw I did it! That is why I ran away!"

Chika chuckled under her breath, not buying my shit.

Not even one fucking bit.

"Now, keep aside the bullshit and tell me, Dabeluchi Orji," She pinched the tip of her nose as she stepped closer to me, her eyes narrowing at me as her body closed the space between us; her demeanor serious all of a sudden, and the tension in the air, thicker.

Then, she dropped a bombshell of a question.

"What is it that you are really running away from in that house, Dabeluchi?"

Blood.

Fire.

Blood.

Fire.

The images scattered in my head, nearly throwing me to the ground, if I hadn't staggered for balance. Never had my suppressed thoughts ever gotten to the point where they waged battles in my head, pushing me in between illusions and realities; the sounds of broken glass, the stench of blood, and the unbearable chokehold from clouds of smoke, all tormented me. Amidst these deeply buried down traumas, I fought the urge to shut down the voices, and the screams that sounded like they came from the deepest parts of Hell.

In the midst of the chaos in my head, I looked Chika in the eyes, and answered her question.

"I am running from my father. And his mistress, Delilah. That is all."

Chika didn't budge. She barely moved a muscle on her face, and with a stoic, neutral expression, she stared at me, blankly, for the count of two seconds.

"Okay."

That was all she said, afterwards.

She moved away from my face, and walked with casualness, towards the bed, arms folded and a cool, undisturbed energy, oozing off her chillness.

However, she surprised me, when she quipped a look towards Ebere, and said;

"Someone, shut the doors. And, make everyone coming in to retreat."

Eh?

Instantly, I saw Red.

I was immediately panicking, my eyes going wide in saucers and heart racing, on Chika's sudden orders.

However, I had no time to react.

Ebube Onuoha obliged, walking towards the doors, and shutting it, bolting it tight, and trapping me, in this decrepit, abandoned-looking, dead room, with the four of them.

"W-What's going on?" I asked, my voice shaking with fear, as I saw all of them slowly start to surround me, in what looked like a attempt to corner every angle around me. Petrified, I started moving backwards, as they all came closer. "What the fuck are you guys doing?"

None of them said a word, yet I was surrounded.

Chika took Casper's bag, and zipped it open. Her face was casual and unbothered, completely unfazed, when she whipped out a camouflage bandana from the bag, like it was a damn weapon.

A weapon fashioned against me?

"Dabeluchi," she called my name, easily. Casually, "I can see that you're still bent on being stubborn... But, that's okay. I saw this coming. So, I prepared for it."

She zipped the bag back up, and aggressively drew the bandana between her hands, like she was warming up, or some sort.

"Now, unfortunately," She said, "I have to do what I have to do."

"Chi-Chika, w-what are you talking about?" I stuttered, terrified.

She was so calm. Yet, so threatening. It horrified me.

And, everyone else surrounded me: Casper, Soma, and Ebere, all of them, having similar looks on their faces, except a tad bit more expressive, with something I comprehended as pity.

Or guilt.

As though they were about to do something to me that they really didn't want to do.

I became even more terrified. I wanted to scream, but my voice came off as a breathless screech.

"You leave us no choice, Dabi," Chika said, "We are your friends, and we aren't about to watch you fuck yourself up, because of trauma you are refusing to acknowledge. Think the worst of us, but when you have finally woken up in this room, and hopefully, agreed to finally open your eyes and see all we are protecting you from, you will thank us, my love."

And, with that, Chika slammed a fist into the back of my head.

It was pain that slapped into me so sharp it zapped like lightening from the back of my head to the marrow of my spine, instantly paralyzing me and sending me into a world of black and white.

"You will wake up in twelve hours," I heard Soma say, in my moment that I was slipping deeper and deeper into unconsciousness, "We are so sorry, Lulu. If we let you intrude with this mindset, we fear the worst; in that case, the days of you, your Mother, and your brother would be numbered."

Blonde hair focused and unfocused in my vision, and I knew it was Casper, when I heard the only guy's voice in the midst;

"You deserve freedom, Dabeluchi. We deserve Freedom."

My vision flicked black and white, my body went dumb, and I was on the floor, with eyes fluttering open and close, vision steadying and unsteadying, as I felt the crowd cover me, and the bandana Chika was holding, being wrapped around my hands, tightening, like a hand cuff.

"Sleep well, Dabi," Ebere's voice was soft, behind me, "When you wake up, Life would be much better."

I felt another piece of fabric around my legs, tying, and then, another over my mouth. I was weak. Too weak to fight. Too weak to say anything.

"Night. Night. My friend."

With that those last words, Chika planted a kiss on my forehead.

And, my world went black.

***

{Breathe, guys. Breathe. One two. Now, carry on. We are not quite done yet. Almost at the end of the chapter; You just need one more bit of information. Read on, my angels!}

~ACHA~

I needed to find Dabeluchi.

Somewhere, deep in me, something felt wrong. Too wrong. I started to rethink my decisions. Was it a good idea to leave her alone, with her friends, to find out about their betrayal? Was that the best way to have handled things? I genuinely started to think I made a big mistake.

Oh, God, forgive me, Aurora.

"Kelechi..."

I looked over my shoulder, to the girl who had been my companion, for a while tonight, while I worried sick about my Aurora.

"Marcus..."

She called back, behind me, her steps dainty and gentle.

We were in one of the Hallways, upstairs, and even if Kelechi Uwa wore heels that pointed as sharp as a knife, she somehow managed to still walk down behind me, like she was on an aisle, or a red carpet, or a Royal ball, with steps that were poise and graceful.

And, also, forgive me to say, incredibly, fucking slow.

"Marcus...?"

She called me again, with that flavored tone of voice, and her hands touched my shoulders, gently grabbing onto them like a support, before propping in front of me to glaze glowing eyes that shone silver and fine red in the dim lighting of the Hallway.

It was already 1am, and half our classmates were either passed out in the Living room, reeking of alcohol and booze from the night before, or in various guest rooms, burning the night with frivolous gossip or teenage angst and lust, depending. The point is, everyone was exhausted at this point, and while guys looked like tire fucks, girls had their make up, ugly-running or smudged by now, but somehow, just somehow, Kelechi Uwa looked like she just dressed up two minutes ago, with face still gleaming and eyes still sparking.

Some people were just God's favorites. Her beauty was always so confusing to comprehend. However, I was too fucked up in the head and worried about Dabi to dwell much on it. Instead, I brought it up, the real reason I had actually called Kelechi.

"I have been thinking about who it was that gave you that drink... You know? The poisoned glass of Vodka that sent Gadhafi to the Hospital."

She walked with me, her steps carefully following mine.

"Um, yes? What about it?"

I stopped walking, turning to face Kelechi.

"I took that drink from you, Kels; but, you said that you were given that drink by someone...?"

She nodded, listening carefully.

"Verily. And?"

I laughed under my breath, my brain putting two and two together.

"Somebody planned to attack somebody else with that poisoned Vodka, Kelechi," I told her, "And, Gadhafi stepped in and accidentally, fell a victim of a potential murder plan that was not planned for him."

Kelechi blinked, puzzled. "Murder?"

"And, whoever the culprit is knows me and you very well, Kelechi," I told her, "They know us too well and had studied our personalities and reactions enough to be able to even evaluate our next move... Like a psychotic stalker?"

She stared at me, listening quietly.

"They knew you enough to figure out that you had some intuition in you," I further elaborated to Kelechi, "And, for that reason, you would know something was wrong and would not take that drink, but you are too nice to reject the offer, so you would end up wandering around with the glass in your hand, until you find somewhere to dump it. So, actually, you were not the one the attack was planned against, Kelechi."

"Where are you going with this, Marcus?—" She asked me, frowning slightly.

"—But you see, their target victim needed to be focused on, so they used you as an instrument, while timing you perfectly. They knew that you were soon going to meet me, so you would not have the chance to wader off too far with the glass or have enough time to decide to dump it somewhere, Kelechi. I remember that Vodka drink was still very cold when when I took it from you, so that means you met me, literally seconds, after it was given to you."

Kelechi blinked again, stuttering a bit. "U-Um..."

"So, the culprit actually knew that you were going to meet me," I continued, "And, if they knew you were going to meet me, that could only mean that they had some background information or knowledge as to why you wanted to meet me, its urgency, and everything. And, I am talking about someone that was aware of what we were secretly discussing, all about Chika's diary and all her friends were hiding from her..."

She said not a word. Just stared, blankly, hearing everything I had to say.

"...It was not a ploy to harm you, Kelechi. It was a ploy to harm me."

She scoffed in disbelief and subtle confusion. "Wait—What?"

"I mean, look at it this way," I insisted, corroborating my notion thus, "If the culprit knew what we knew about Chika's diary and how her friends were lying to her, and all they were doing behind her back, and they knew that we knew and were on a mission to expose them to Dabi, they probably felt that we were frustrating their plans... And, I know you know exactly the caliber of people I am talking about, Kels. That Clique. The Igbo Sisters; and it makes so much more sense why I was the one targeted and not you, because they knew I was the one capable of telling Dabeluchi the truth. You couldn't have been much of a threat, because Dabi hates your guts; nothing you would have said would have made her believe you of all people, so it makes sense how that poisoned glass of Vodka was actually meant for me, to shut me up."

I was surprised how Kelechi was not seeming to make much inputs, considering she was the smart one in these kind of cases. The intuitive one too.

However, she completely threw me off guard when she said;

"But, Marcus... What if that poisoned glass of Vodka was meant for Dabeluchi?"

I got a whiplash. A frown etched onto my face.

"Huh?"

Kelechi looked at me, simply, and didn't stop there. She continued talking.

"Remember, I was the one whom the glass was given to, and after the incident with Gadhafi, and my own personal analysis, I came to the conclusion that that glass of Vodka was neither for you or me. Marcus, it was for Dabeluchi."

I backed up, stupefied, a thousand calculations doing in my head.

"Oh?" She straightened her already perfect posture, titled her head to the side, observingly, "You never thought about the fact that if Gadhafi hadn't swooped in and taken the glass, both you and Dabeluchi would have been drenching that hot, sizzling poison down your throats together?"

The thought of anything like that happening to my Aurora scarred me. But, damn it, I was so, so confused.

"But, why would the Igbo Sisters want to hurt Dabeluchi like that?" I had to ask Kelechi, sincerely, "Why would they want to go to the extremes to harm their best friend like that?"

Kelechi's eyes glazed with something I couldn't comprehend, but the perfect arch her brows made when they raised made me realize that there was a lot more to this that I was blinded from.

"By your conspiracy theory, you are insinuating that Chika or any one of the Igbo Sisters was the one who gave me the drink," She spoke, taking her time to break down things properly, "And that I didn't take it because I could feel something was wrong with it, correct? You are right when you do say that I felt something was very off with the drink, because I had mentioned it so to you; however, it was not just the fact that it was alcoholic and being the kind of person I am, I couldn't spot a drink with alcohol to save my life. It wasn't just the alcohol, like I had eventually dismissed, it was more. I could detect there was a ploy, not just one to take down a victim, but also, to confuse and distract us from, from what is actually going on..."

I stared at her, suspense rising my the beneath.

What did she mean by that? The part about confusing and 'distracting' from what was actually going on...?

"You say the Igbo Sisters are the masterminds behind the plan, and their bid was to shut you up, so Dabeluchi would not find out about their plan..." She said, brow raised in question and when I nodded, she carried on, "But, that is not true, Marcus. Because the main target of this Vodka plan was not even you, it was Dabeluchi. You were just an instrument to get to her, a pawn that they wouldn't have minded taking down in the process, if you got in the way. And, Marcus, as a matter of fact...

...Chika Chioma was not the one who gave me that glass of Vodka."

Chills ran through me, racking my entire body into static shock.

With trembling lips, I opened my mouth to ask Kelechi Uwa;

"Who gave you that poisoned glass of Vodka?—"

—GBAM!

The sudden distraction startled us, shaking us up immediately, and in seconds, we darted, rushing into the room right by our side, where we had heard the loud, thunderous sound of someone, crashing into something hard.

In no time, we were in the room, one of the guest rooms, shocked the mess of things that the place was and the stench of alcohol that filled the air of the room, thick stench of Vodka that suffocated me in this place.

But, that was the least of my shock...

Right there, in the pile of broken furniture and scattered clothes, I caught a glimpse of that familiar looking pyjama trouser, that belonged to the boozed, drunk fellow who laid beneath the pile, slurring curses and the names of two people, over and over again.

Acha...

And fucking Dabeluchi.

Acha...

And stupid Dabeluchi.

Acha...

And dead Dabeluchi.

Over and over again, the names repeated.

However, that glass of Vodka in his hands never left the register of my eyes, as I analyzed who it was, in that pile, slurring my name and the name of my girlfriend, whom, in even in his state of drunkenness, wished death upon;

Sean Ayomide.

LONGEST CHAPTER EVER IN TMBT BUT ABEG, WAS IT NOT WORTH IT??

CONSPIRACY THEORIES! GO! GO! GO!

OH AND HAPPY BIRTHDAY, BERTHA! @julerack

Please, go over to the next update to see a surprise! {Inserts heart emoji}