“Stunning, haunting, absolutely beautiful storytelling...” - GEEK DIGEST
Tessy’s life is a portrait of near-perfection: a fulfilling career, a devoted fiancé, and the joy of family. But when a buried family secret explodes into the open, triggered by a DNA test, her world fractures. The man who raised her isn’t her biological father. And the truth? It’s been hidden in plain sight.
As tensions spiral and loyalties falter, Tessy makes a shocking decision: she abandons everything, her family and the wedding she once dreamed of, to flee to the UK under the guise of pursuing a master’s degree. But her real mission is far more personal. Armed only with a long-deleted text and a vague suspicion of his workplace, she begins a covert search for the man she suspects is her true father, a ghost from her mother’s past.
What she uncovers will force her to confront not just the man behind the mystery, but the woman who shaped her life with silence. And as Tessy edges closer to the truth, she must ask herself: is knowing worth the cost of everything she’s left behind?
1
On a good day, she would be half awake by the time her alarm struck. But because this was no good day, Tessy’s alarm sliced through her deep sleep like a blade through a reed. 5:30 a.m. She blinked once, twice, then reached for her phone with the reflex of someone trained by deadlines and deliverables. The screen lit up, thirteen missed calls. Seven texts. All from Ikenna and Jidenna.
Her heart didn’t race. Not yet. The twins were dramatic, especially Jidenna. But the timestamps were clustered, starting just after midnight and ending minutes ago. That was unusual.
She sat up, the air in her bedroom still heavy with the scent of last night’s rain and the faint musk of unopened windows. Her thumb hovered over the first message.
Tessy pls call. It’s serious. We need you to come home. Now. It’s about Daddy.
She didn’t move. Didn’t breathe. Just stared at the words until they blurred.
Tessy didn’t reply. Not yet. She placed the phone face down on the bed, as if muting the urgency would make it less real.
She moved through her morning routine like it’s choreography, deliberate and practiced. The bathroom tiles were cool beneath her feet. She brushed her teeth with mechanical precision, counting strokes like she used to count campaign impressions. The shower hissed to life, steam rising in soft plumes, fogging the mirror before she could meet her own eyes.
She dressed in navy slacks and a cream blouse, the kind of outfit that said competent, composed, unshaken.
By the time she picked up her phone again, her coffee had gone cold. Her fingers hesitated at the buttons. She could feel the texts pulsing behind her, like a second heartbeat.
She dialled Ikenna first. He picked up on the second ring, breathless.
“Tessy, thank God. We’ve been calling...”
“I saw. What’s going on?”
A pause. Then, “They fought again. All night. This time it’s bad.”
She closed her eyes. “How bad?”
“He left. He packed a bag. Said he’s not coming back unless...” Ikenna’s voice cracked. “Unless we all do DNA tests.”
Tessy sat down slowly on the edge of her bed. “What?”
“It was Jidenna who heard them better. Mum said something… something crazy. That we’re not his. Any of us.”
Silence. Not the kind that waits, but the kind that breaks.
“She said it in the heat of it, but he took it seriously. He said he’s done taking any of it. He wants proof.”
Tessy’s fingers curled around the phone. Her mouth was dry. “Did she take it back?”
“She didn’t say anything meaningful. You know mum, wouldn’t stop yelling cusses at him. He slammed the door and left.”
Tessy stepped onto her balcony, the city already humming beneath her. She dialled Uncle Bolaji, thumb trembling slightly. He picked up with his usual warmth.
“Tessy baby. I was just about to call you.”
“You’ve heard?”
“Ikenna called me. Jidenna too. I’ve spoken to your mum. Don’t worry, I’ll talk to oga Uzor. We’ll settle it. It’s nothing you should be worried about.”
She leaned against the railing. “Uncle, what’s this rage about DNA tests?”
Bolaji sighed. “Ah. Your mother, Ronke, that woman and her mouth. Like a broken tap. Always leaking nonsense when she’s angry.”
Tessy didn’t laugh.
“It’s baseless, Tessy. You know your father. He’s proud. Once she said that thing, even if it was just heat-of-the-moment talk, he took it personally. You know how men are.”
She swallowed, walking back into her room. “But why would she say it?”
Bolaji paused. “You know your mother. She talks to cause maximum destruction. It doesn’t mean it’s true.”
Tessy stared out at the skyline, the morning light sharpening everything. “You really think it’s nothing?”
“I’ll talk to him. He’ll come back. Just give it time.”
But time, Tessy knew, didn’t erase doubt. It only taught people how to live with it.
Tessy ended the call and stared at her reflection in the mirror. Her blouse was crisp, her makeup minimal. She looked like someone ready to pitch a multi-million-naira campaign, not someone whose family might be unravelling.
She sat on the edge of her bed, phone in hand, weighing her options. Go to Surulere and walk into a house thick with silence and accusation. Or go to work, where the stakes were measurable, the outcomes clean.
Bolaji said he’d handle it. He always did. He was the family’s unofficial fixer, the one who could talk Uzor down from any ledge. Maybe this time would be no different.
She stood, grabbed her laptop bag, and slipped on her heels.
“I have a presentation at ten,” she said aloud, as if reminding herself. “I’m not letting this derail me.”
The elevator ride down was quiet. Lagos was already awake, already pulsing. As she stepped into the morning traffic, she felt the familiar hum of purpose settle over her.
But beneath it, something else stirred. A question she hadn’t yet allowed herself to ask.
Tessy walked into the office like she owned the morning. Her heels clicked with purpose, her smile practiced but not hollow. She greeted colleagues with nods and warmth, her voice steady, her posture tall.
Inside, her thoughts were a mess of fragments, her mother’s hurtful words, her father’s rage, Uncle Bolaji’s bravado. But she refused to let them in. Not today. Not before the pitch.
She passed the glass-walled conference room where her team was already setting up. The campaign deck was solid. She’d rehearsed it twice last night. She could do this.
At 9:42, she slipped away to the cafeteria. It was quiet, save for the hum of the espresso machine and the low murmur of early risers. Chiedu was already there, leaning against the counter, two paper cups in hand. One steaming hot choco drink and the other one a freshly brewed mint tea with cream.
He smiled when he saw her. “There’s my superstar.”
She walked into his arms without a word, letting herself exhale for the first time that morning.
“You okay?” he asked softly.
She nodded. “Just... family noise. I’m not letting it touch today.”
He handed her the tea. “Good. Because you’re about to crush that presentation. You’ve got the numbers, the story, the charm. They won’t know what hit them.”
She smiled, this time less rehearsed. “You always say that.”
“Because it’s always true.”
He kissed her forehead, brief and grounding. “Go make magic.”
Instead of leaving, Tessy sat down across from Chiedu, cradling the cup between her palms. The steam curled upward, soft and slow.
“They fought again,” she said, eyes fixed on the table. “My parents. All night, apparently.”
Chiedu’s brow furrowed. “What happened?”
She shook her head. “I don’t know the details. Just... shouting. Angry shouting which is my mom’s trademark. Doors slamming. My dad left the house.”
“Left?”
“They say he packed a bag and said he’s not coming back. My brothers are panicking. Uncle Bolaji’s trying to fix it.”
Chiedu reached across the table, his hand brushing hers. “I’m sorry, babe. That’s heavy.”
She nodded, swallowing the knot in her throat. “It’s just bad timing. I’ve got this pitch, the campaign’s finally coming together, and now, this.”
He leaned in, voice low and steady. “You’ve worked too hard to let this throw you off. You’re allowed to feel it, but don’t let it own you.”
She looked up at him, grateful for the steadiness in his gaze. “I’m trying.”
“You’re doing more than trying. You’re showing up. That’s strength.”
She smiled faintly, the kind that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “You always know what to say.”
“That’s my job,” he said, squeezing her hand. “Now go remind them why you’re the best in the room.”
Tessy stirred her coffee absently, watching the swirl of cream dissolve. Chiedu leaned forward, sensing the shift in her silence.
“You’re thinking about the wedding, aren’t you?”
She nodded, eyes still on the cup. “I just... I don’t know how I’m supposed to plan anything with all this family drama. They’re going to ruin it.”
“They won’t,” he said gently. “We won’t let them.”
“There’s still so much to do,” she said, voice tightening. “The guest list isn’t final. We haven’t locked down the caterer. My dress isn’t even ready. And now this?”
Chiedu reached for her hand. “Let me take some of it off your plate. I can chase the caterer, confirm the venue details, even talk to your mum if you want.”
She pulled her hand back, not harshly, but with a quiet resistance. “I appreciate it, I do. But I need to be the one doing it. I need to know it’s done right.”
He nodded slowly. “You don’t have to carry everything alone, Tess.”
“I know,” she said, forcing a smile. “But right now, it feels like the only thing I can control.”
He didn’t push. Just sat with her, letting the silence settle between them like a shared weight.
Chiedu watched her carefully, sensing the shift in her tone.
“You should talk to them,” he said gently.
“My mom?”
He nodded.
“You’re a newcomer to the family. You don’t know these people.”
He nodded again, “True. But since you have been told of the matter, ignoring it won’t help.”
“The only thing that would do is make me the target of her anger.”
“Even if it’s just to say you’re not getting involved.”
Tessy exhaled, long and slow. “I’m tired of mediating. They don’t deserve the fight. Neither of them.”
She stirred her tea again, eyes distant. “My mum’s a good person. She is. As much as she makes it impossible for people to notice. But she’s so damn stubborn. She’d rather bite her tongue off than admit she’s wrong.”
Chiedu nodded, letting her speak.
“And my dad... he doesn’t deserve the way she treats him sometimes. But he also doesn’t help himself. He takes everything she says like it’s gospel. Like he hasn’t lived with her for thirty years. Like he doesn’t know she says things she doesn’t mean.”
“True.”
She looked up, voice quiet but firm. “He should know her better by now. He should ignore her when she’s cruel. But he never does. He lets it get under his skin. Every time.”
Chiedu reached for her hand again; this time she let him hold it.
“You’ve been carrying their weight for too long,” he said. “You’re allowed to step back.”
She nodded, but her jaw was tight. “I just wanted peace. For the wedding. For once.”
“You’ll have it,” he said. “Even if we have to build it ourselves.”
Chiedu watched her carefully, his thumb tracing the rim of his cup.
“You know,” he said, “it’s a good thing you see all this. Your parents, their mess, it’s like a manual of what not to do. We’ll be fine. We’ll be better.”
Tessy smiled, but it didn’t quite hold. “I want to believe that.”
“You don’t?”
She hesitated. “I don’t know. Watching them... it’s like watching something rot from the inside. They love each other, I think. But they don’t know how to stop hurting each other.”
Chiedu reached for her hand again. “We’re not them.”
“I know,” she said softly. “But it’s hard not to wonder if marriage just... wears people down.”
He didn’t argue. Just held her gaze, steady and kind.
After a moment, he said, “We’ve been putting off our date for over a week now.”
She groaned, half-apologetic. “I know. It’s just been...”
“No excuses,” he said, smiling. “You owe me dinner. And I’m collecting tonight.”
She laughed, the sound lighter than she expected. “Fine. End of the day. No work, no wedding talk, no family drama.”
“Just us,” he said.
She nodded, and for a moment, the weight lifted.
Tessy sat in her office, the hum of the air conditioner barely masking the silence in her head. Her laptop screen glowed, open to the campaign deck, but the words refused to settle. Her fingers hovered over the keyboard, unmoving.
She tried to focus, on the pitch, on the numbers, on the sleek transitions she’d rehearsed. But her thoughts kept circling back to the fight. To Ronke’s rage. To Uzor’s absence. To Bolaji’s assurances that felt thinner by the hour.
She sipped her tea. It was lukewarm now, maybe stale.
Then, without warning, the thought came.
What if I called off the wedding?
It wasn’t loud. It didn’t scream. It arrived like a whisper, absurd and unwelcome.
She blinked, startled by herself. No. That’s ridiculous.
She loved Chiedu. He was kind, steady, patient. He wasn’t her father. She definitely wasn’t her mother. She didn’t provoke or punish. He didn’t weaponize silence.
But still, the thought lingered. Not as a plan, but as a symptom. A sign that something inside her was adjusting.
She shook her head, stood up, paced once across the room.
Focus, she told herself. This is just stress. Just noise.
But deep down, she knew it wasn’t just noise. It was fear. The kind that doesn’t announce itself but waits. Quietly. Persistently.
2
Before it was time to finish from work, Tessy couldn’t take it anymore. She needed to talk to her father at least. He was the one who was capable of holding a clear conversation in the thick of his anger. She packed her phone and purse into her handbag and left her office.
The drive to Lekki was long, but the traffic gave Tessy time to rehearse her calm. By the time she pulled into the gated compound of Uzor & Sons Realty, the sun was beginning its descent, casting golden streaks across the glass façade of the building.
Mr. Uzor’s assistant greeted her with a wide smile and ushered her upstairs. Her father was already waiting, arms open, eyes bright.
“Tessy!” he beamed. “You’ve finally come to see your old man at work.”
She smiled, letting herself be pulled into a brief hug. “I needed a break from my own chaos.”
He waved at the assistant. “Bring us drinks. And something light, plantain chips, maybe puff-puff. My daughter loves puff-puff.”
They walked through the sleek office, past framed blueprints and glossy renderings of luxury estates. He led her to the balcony, wide, breezy, overlooking a half-completed high-rise across the street.
“This one,” he said, pointing, “is going to be my crown jewel. Mixed-use. Retail below, apartments above. We’re calling it The Uzor Heights. Catchy, eh?”
Tessy laughed. “You’ve always had a flair for naming things.”
He handed her a glass of Chapman from the tray on his side table. “And you’ve always had a flair for selling them. How’s work?”
She leaned against the railing, sipping slowly. “Busy. We’re pitching a new campaign tomorrow. Big client. Big expectations.”
He nodded, proud. “You were always the sharp one. Even as a child, you’d negotiate bedtime like it was a boardroom.”
They both laughed, the sound light and familiar. For a moment, the weight of the morning lifted.
But beneath the laughter, Tessy felt the quiet thrum of questions. The ones she hadn’t yet asked. The ones she wasn’t sure she wanted answers to.
They lingered on the balcony, the breeze soft against Tessy’s skin, the city below humming with late-afternoon life. Her father’s voice had settled into a rhythm, updates on construction, anecdotes about stubborn clients, a brief tangent about the rising cost of gravel.
Then, gently, Tessy shifted the tone.
“Daddy,” she said, “what happened with Mum?”
Mr. Uzor’s smile faltered. He looked out at the skyline, jaw tightening.
“It started with something small,” he said. “I can’t even remember what. Maybe the generator. Or the house help. One of those things.”
He paused, fingers tapping his glass.
“But then she started shouting. Loud. Aggressive. Saying things that...” He stopped, swallowed. “Things no one should say to their husband.”
Tessy stayed quiet, letting him speak.
He kept his gaze thrown into the rooftops of the building on the street, “She called me names. Said I was useless. That I was impotent. That none of you were mine.”
His voice cracked slightly, the words landing heavy.
“I know Ronke. I know how she talks when she’s angry. But this... this was different. She looked me in the eye and said it like she meant it.”
“She doesn’t mean it.”
He turned to Tessy, eyes dark. “Do you know what that does to a man? To hear that? After everything?”
She didn’t answer. She couldn’t.
“I left,” he said. “I had to. I told her I want DNA tests. For all three of you. I need to know.”
The silence between them stretched, thick and unforgiving.
Tessy stared at her father, the man who had taught her how to negotiate, how to stand tall, how to never let anyone see her break. And now, here he was, cracked open, humiliated, grasping for certainty.
She wanted to speak. To soothe. To challenge. But all she could do was listen.
Mr. Uzor’s voice had grown tighter, his Chapman untouched.
“I have to do something drastic,” he said, eyes fixed on the skyline. “She needs to understand she can’t keep doing this.”
Tessy leaned forward. “Daddy, please. Just go home. You know how Mum talks. She says things she doesn’t mean.”
He turned to her, eyes sharp. “That’s the problem, Tessy. She’s been saying this for years. Always in the heat of it. Always when she wants to cut deep.”
“She’s just, she’s loud. She lashes out. You know that.”
“She torments me,” he said, voice low. “She knows it’s a sore point. She knows how much it hurts. And she uses it. Every time.”
Tessy swallowed, the words landing heavy.
“I need to do the test,” he said. “Not because I doubt you. Or the boys. But because I need to take that weapon away from her. Once and for all.”
He looked at her, eyes tired but resolute. “If the results come back clean, she’ll never be able to say it again. She’ll lose that power.”
Tessy sat back, the breeze suddenly cooler against her skin. She understood his logic. But it didn’t make the ache any less.
Tessy sat in silence as her father’s words settled around her like dust. The breeze had shifted, cooler now, less forgiving. Mr. Uzor sipped his drink, eyes distant, as if replaying every insult Ronke had ever hurled.
She nodded slowly, offering a quiet gesture of understanding. But inside, her thoughts were spiralling.
What if the test says he’s not my father?
The question came uninvited, sharp and disorienting. She tried to push it away, but it clung to her ribs like damp cloth.
She had his mannerisms. His stubborn streak. His love for clean lines and quiet spaces. But blood wasn’t always proof. And memory wasn’t always truth.
And even if the test cleared everything, proved what she’d always believed, would it fix the way he looked at her now? Would it erase the years of suspicion, the bruises left by words spoken in anger?
She glanced at him, watching the way his jaw clenched, the way his fingers tapped the glass. He was a man unravelling, trying to stitch himself back together with certainty.
But Tessy knew truth didn’t always heal. Sometimes it just rearranged the damage.
She stood slowly, her voice steady. “I should get going. I have a dinner date.”
He nodded, distracted. “Tell Chiedu I said hello.”
She smiled faintly, but her heart was heavy. As she walked back to her car, the city lights flickering to life around her, she felt something rise inside her.
Not a break. Not yet.
But a quiet undoing.
Tessy had just slid into the driver’s seat when her phone buzzed.
If you’re not in a hurry, come back. There’s something I’ve been meaning to tell you.
She stared at the message, thumb hovering. Her dinner with Chiedu flashed in her mind, his warm insistence, the promise of normalcy, of laughter, of forgetting.
But her father’s words carried weight.
Something I’ve been meaning to tell you.
Not something I forgot. Not something small.
She sat still for a moment, the hum of Lekki traffic rising around her. Then she turned off the ignition, stepped out, and walked back into the building.
Mr. Uzor was waiting in his office, standing by the window, hands clasped behind his back. He turned when she entered, a flicker of surprise in his eyes quickly replaced by something heavier.
“You came back,” he said.
“I had a few minutes,” she replied, voice steady.
He gestured to the chair across from his desk. “Sit. This won’t take long.”
She sat, heart quiet but alert.
He didn’t speak immediately. Just looked at her, as if memorizing her face.
“There’s something I’ve carried for years,” he said finally. “And I think it’s time you knew in light of this fight with your mother.”
Mr. Uzor sat down slowly, as if the weight of the past had finally caught up with him.
“I was married before Ronke, you already know this,” he said, voice low. “Eleven years. No children. We tried everything. Doctors, prayers, even silence. Eventually, she left. Said she couldn’t keep waiting. It was an otherwise happy marriage, but motherhood meant more to her than love. I don’t blame her.”
Tessy didn’t speak. She hadn’t known many details about his past marriage.
“I was diagnosed with low sperm count. Not zero. Just... low. Enough to make hope feel like punishment.”
He looked at her, eyes tired but clear. “Then I met Ronke. She was my new secretary. Sharp. Confident. She introduced me to an herbal fertility expert. I didn’t believe in it, but I was desperate.”
He paused, fingers laced together.
This was the how-I-met-your-mother story she wasn’t sure she was ready to hear. It dawned on her neither of them had ever offered to tell the twins and her how they met and she never asked.
“Ronke had so much faith in this baba. She would ask me nearly every morning I come into the office if I had gone to see him. She felt bad for me after my wife left and her concern sort of drew me to her.”
Tessy nodded slowly.
“You know, we started spending time together outside office hours. Insisted I went through with the fertility herbalist. Shortly after, she got pregnant. With you. We got married. I thought, finally. A miracle.”
Tessy’s breath caught.
“Then nine years passed. Nothing. No more children. At this point, she had started saying this outrageous thing about your paternity any time we fight, giving rise to doubts. We tried IVF. It worked after the fifth try. The twins came. But the doubt never left.”
He leaned forward, voice tightening.
“That’s why her words cut so deep. She knows what I’ve been through. She knows how fragile it all felt. And still, she throws it at me, calls me impotent, says you’re not mine, says the boys aren’t either.”
He looked at her, eyes burning.
“I need to shut her up. Not with shouting. With proof. So, she never uses that weapon again.”
Tessy didn’t have many words to offer after this. She stood from the chair, said some incoherent words about how he needs to stay strong and left his office.
Tessy gripped the steering wheel as she pulled onto the express way, her father’s words echoing in her head like a drumbeat. The ache in his voice. The humiliation. The quiet desperation behind his need for proof.
She couldn’t hold it in.
She tapped her mother’s contact and hit call.
Ronke picked up on the second ring. “Tessy, I...”
“How could you?” Tessy snapped, voice already rising. “How could you say that to him? You know what he’s been through. You know how sensitive that is.”
Ronke’s voice sharpened. “He’s the one who stormed out. He always acts like a saint when he’s the one...”
“No, Mum. No. You don’t get to twist this. You called him impotent. You said we weren’t his. You used that to hurt him. Again.”
“He provoked me!”
“And you went for the jugular. Like you always do. You think just because you’re angry, you get to say anything?”
Ronke’s voice cracked. “You don’t understand what it’s like living with him...”
“I understand enough to know he’s broken. And you helped break him.”
The line went quiet for a beat. Then Ronke snapped back, louder now. “Don’t you dare take sides. You think he’s innocent? You think I haven’t swallowed years of his pride, his silence, his...”
“I’m not taking sides,” Tessy shouted. “I’m telling you that what you said was cruel. And you’ve been saying it for years. You knew it would destroy him. And you said it anyway.”
The shouting blurred. Accusations layered over defences. Pain over pride.
Finally, Tessy pulled over, her chest heaving.
“I’m done being the buffer,” she said, voice low now. “You two want to tear each other apart? Fine. But leave me out of it.”
Ronke’s voice rose, sharp and unrelenting.
“He deserves it, Tessy. After everything I did for that man. I gave him children, children he never dreamt he could have. I saved him from shame. And what do I get? Disrespect. Antagonism. Every time.”
Tessy gripped the phone tighter, her knuckles pale. “You think that gives you the right to torment him?”
“He should worship the ground I walk on,” Ronke snapped. “Instead, he picks fights. He acts like I owe him something.”
“You sound entitled,” Tessy said, her voice trembling with fury. “You think your sacrifice gives you permission to be cruel. It doesn’t.”
Ronke inhaled sharply, ready to retort, but Tessy didn’t wait.
“I’m done, Mum. I’m done listening to this.”
She hung up.
The silence that followed was thick, almost physical. Tessy sat in her car, the engine still off, her breath shallow. Her hands trembled slightly, not from fear, but from the weight of everything unsaid.
She had defended her father. She had confronted her mother. But nothing felt resolved.
Only exposed.
Tessy changed lanes without thinking, her fingers tight on the wheel. The thought of dinner, of smiling, of pretending, felt impossible. She made a mental note to text Chiedu, something vague but kind. Too tired. Let’s reschedule.
The drive home was quiet. No music. No calls. Just the low hum of her tires against the road and the echo of her father’s voice.
She let herself into her apartment, kicked off her shoes, and collapsed onto the bed fully dressed. The ceiling stared back, blank and indifferent.
She thought of Uzor, his pride, his pain, the way his voice cracked when he said I need to know. She had never seen him like that. Not even when his business nearly collapsed. Not even when Ronke threw plates in countless fights.
And now, she couldn’t stop thinking about it.
What if I’m not his?
The thought came again, sharper this time. Not as a whisper, but as a possibility. A door she hadn’t known existed, now slightly ajar.
She hated herself for thinking it. For doubting. But it was there now, lodged in her chest like a stone.
Maybe it would be better to know. For sure. Just to be free of it.
She turned onto her side, eyes burning. The idea of the test, once outrageous, now felt like a thread she couldn’t stop pulling.
She didn’t want it to matter.
But it did.
And she worried it always would.
Tessy was curled on her bed, the room dim, her phone buzzing against the pillow. She saw Chiedu’s name and hesitated. Then answered.
“You ran off at work,” he said, voice soft but edged. “No goodbye. No text. And you skipped dinner.”
“I know,” she said, rubbing her forehead. “I’m sorry. I was too worked up. I needed to see my dad before he left the office. I didn’t want to go to the house.”
Chiedu paused. “How did it go?”
She exhaled. “Worse than I expected. I thought maybe hearing his side would help. But now... I don’t even know if I want anything to do with that dysfunctional mess.”
“Tessy...”
“I mean it,” she said, voice rising. “They’re toxic. They’ve been using me as a buffer for years. And now this? DNA tests? Accusations? It’s like they’re trying to tear each other apart and drag me with them.”
Chiedu was quiet for a beat. Then, gently: “You’re not them. You’re stronger than all that.”
She closed her eyes. “That’s not the point.”
“I know it’s hard,” he said. “But you’ve always found a way through. You’re smart. You’re grounded. You’re not going to let their chaos control you.”
She didn’t respond.
“I’m here,” he added. “Whatever you need. Even if it’s just silence.”
Tessy swallowed, the knot in her throat tightening. She wanted to believe him. Wanted to lean into his steadiness. But tonight, even his comfort felt like a reminder of how far she’d drifted from peace.
“I’ll talk to you tomorrow,” she said quietly.
“Okay,” he replied. “Sleep well, Tess.”
She hung up, the silence returning like a tide. She shut her eyes and unbelievably, sleep came.