The Broken Bridge

Ada sat in the small, dimly lit room that used to feel like home. The scent of dampness lingered in the air, a reminder of the years the house had spent fighting decay. Her mother was in the kitchen, her silhouette barely visible through the thin veil of smoke from the stove. Ada's thoughts swirled, suffocated by the weight of their situation.

The bills were piling up, the medical expenses for her father's treatment mounting with no end in sight. Her mother was too proud to ask for help, and Ada, ever the caretaker, felt an unbearable burden pressing on her chest. The only option left was Aunt Ola, the wealthy sister who lived in Port Harcourt, but the thought of approaching her felt like swallowing glass.

Ada had never liked her aunt. Ola's wealth had always been a silent accusation, a reminder of how far they had fallen. But now, as her family teetered on the edge of ruin, Ada knew that she might have no choice but to cross that bridge.

Port Harcourt was a world apart from Ada's quiet village in Aba. As she stood at the door of her aunt's mansion, she hesitated, feeling the gap between them widen with every step she took toward it. Ola's house gleamed in the sunlight, a testament to the life she had built for herself while Ada's family struggled to survive.

The door swung open, and Ada was met with her aunt's cold, calculating smile. "Ada," Aunt Ola's voice was smooth, yet there was something thinly veiled in her tone, "I didn't expect you today."

The conversation that followed was terse and strained, as Ada tried to suppress the anger bubbling within her. Ola was everything Ada had come to resent—detached, selfish, and dismissive of anything that didn't serve her interests. But Ada couldn't afford pride; her father's life hung in the balance, and her mother's health was deteriorating with the stress. 

The tension between Ada's mother and Aunt Ola was palpable, even years after their last confrontation. The stories Ada had heard of their childhood felt distant and unimportant until now, when every memory seemed to hold a secret. Ada was tired of hearing her mother's silence on the subject, but the truth was far murkier than she had imagined.Her mother reluctantly told her of the years that had shaped the rift between her and Ola. Of the betrayals, the unspoken resentments, and the way Ola had stolen opportunities that her mother had longed for. As Ada sat listening, her world shifted. The resentment she had toward Aunt Ola suddenly made sense, and she could no longer see her aunt as the woman who had it all—she was just as flawed as the rest of them.

Ada's sleepless nights were filled with haunting thoughts. Her father's condition was worsening, and the bills were unbearable. Desperation clawed at her, and she began to entertain the idea of borrowing money from anyone—perhaps even a dangerous loan shark. The weight of survival was pushing her toward decisions that no one in their right mind would make.

She knew that asking Aunt Ola for help came with a price, but borrowing money from an unsavory source felt like losing her soul. Every option felt tainted, and Ada felt cornered. She had to choose, but each decision left a bitter taste.