fia blanket. The sky outside her window, tinged with streaks of lavender and silver, hinted at the dawn of a n

of emotions. Images of her father's indifferent expression and her stepmother's calculated charm lingered at the edges of her mind.

en aloud while she was still alive. There were names mentioned that Emily barely recognized and veiled references to things that made little sense to h

need for answers. A thirst for justice. An

le where the letter now lay, folded neatly inside a cloth pouch she had sewn herself for safekeeping. As she touched i

shuffling footsteps of the housemaid, and the sound of a rooster crowing blended into t

f the delicate floral embroidery her mother had so lovingly stitched. As she brushed her hair into a loose braid, she caught her reflec

ed it cautiously to find Chiamaka, her childhood friend and the only person in t

night," Chiamaka said softly, stepping

mile. "Just a headache.

ght you something," she said, revealing a small piece of warm ya

quiet gratitude.

e unspoken comfort of shared history. But Emily could feel the weight

ell you," she said at last, he

ned closer.

anded it to Chiamaka, who carefully unfolded the letter and began to read. As

ng your mother didn't die from

But I think... I think someone wanted her out of the way. And

is is dangerous, Emi. If it's true,

e firm now. "You're the only one I can trust. I need your

r eyes now mingled with a spark of loy

eams across the compound. The world was waking up, oblivious to the storm quie

the surface of everyday life, secrets stirred. And for the first time in her life, Emily felt like she was no l

ven danger-would stop her from uncove