Chapter Sixty-Four

The streets were dim now, bathed in the orange glow of passing headlights and the flickering streetlamps that buzzed overhead. Sarah walked quickly, her heels clicking furiously against the pavement. Her shawl slipped off one shoulder, but she didn't stop to fix it. She couldn't. Not with the fire churning inside her chest.

Her lungs ached. Not from the walk, but from the weight of what had just happened.

She had failed.

Again.

The plan had been perfect. She had timed it just right, her entrance, her words, her dramatic confession. For a brief moment, she had seen it in his eyes, Daniel's hesitation, his doubt. She'd tasted the beginning of victory on her tongue.

And then… it was gone.

Snatched.

By her.

Esther. Always Esther.

Even when Sarah spoke the truth, or at least some version of it, it wasn't enough. It never was. Somehow, no matter what she said or how hard she tried, Esther came out the one people believed. The one they chose.

She clenched her fists, her nails digging into her palms until they stung.

How did this happen? How did Esther, the quiet one, the overlooked one, become her rival? Her replacement? Her nightmare?

"She was supposed to stay in my shadow," Sarah muttered bitterly to herself. "She was supposed to be grateful."

But Esther didn't stay down. She had the audacity to rise, to shine, and now, she had Daniel.

Her Daniel.

Sarah stopped beneath a blinking streetlight, blinking back tears she wouldn't let fall. Not out here. Not like this.

It wasn't just about the ceremony. It wasn't even about the job anymore. It was everything, every year of being compared, of being overlooked. Of having to fight for crumbs while Esther got handed affection, protection, second chances.

Esther had stolen it all. And now she stood there, in the arms of the man Sarah had convinced herself she deserved.

"Liar," she whispered to the night. "She's a liar. And one day, he'll see it."

But even as the words left her lips, they felt empty. Hallow echoes in the darkness.

Truth be told, Sarah didn't know what she was anymore. A whistleblower? A victim? A woman scorned?

Or just… lost.

Harriet's house wasn't far now, but each step toward it felt heavier. Lonelier. Her pride was in shambles. Her reputation, destroyed. Daniel had fired her publicly, stripped her of her place, her dignity, her connection to the empire she once believed she belonged in.

And worst of all, Esther didn't even fight her.

She had said just a few words. Honest. Simple.

And he chose her.

Sarah's jaw tightened as she swallowed the rising scream in her throat. She wouldn't forget this. She couldn't.

This wasn't the end.

Esther might have won today.

But someday, somehow, Sarah would reclaim what was hers.

Even if she had to burn everything in the process.

The front door slammed shut behind her.

Harriet looked up from the couch, a bowl of dry popcorn resting on her lap, remote in hand. She raised an eyebrow the moment she caught sight of Sarah's disheveled state, her makeup smudged, hair tousled, lips quivering not from cold, but rage.

"Well, look who's back from battle," Harriet muttered with mock amusement. "Why do you look like someone just dragged you through mud?"

"I shouldn't be back here," Sarah snapped, her voice sharp, shaking. "This isn't where I was supposed to end up tonight!"

She stormed past Harriet, throwing her clutch across the room. It hit the wall and fell with a thud. Harriet flinched but said nothing.

"This is your fault!" Sarah suddenly screamed, turning back around. "You said it would work! You said once I told the truth, he'd call off the damn ceremony, he'd see Esther for the liar she is, but no… no!. He didn't even blink twice. He believed her!"

Harriet blinked once. Then twice. "Wait, he didn't stop the ceremony?"

Sarah scoffed. "He walked up to her, asked if it was true, and she admitted it. And he still married her! He still chose her!" Her voice cracked, seething with disbelief and something dangerously close to heartbreak.

Harriet sucked in her teeth and leaned back, hiding the small laugh that tried to slip out. "Tsk. Wow. That's… rough."

Sarah glared.

"Oh, I mean, I'm so sorry, dear. That's horrible. What are you going to do now?" Harriet asked, feigning concern, but her eyes darted subtly toward the broken heel on Sarah's shoe and the mascara stains beneath her eyes.

"I lost everything," Sarah murmured. "My job. My reputation. My family. Where the hell do I even go from here?"

There was silence for a beat. Then Harriet sighed dramatically, tossing the popcorn aside.

"Well, you can't keep staying here forever," she said with a stretch. "This place barely fits me. And no offense, but you're not exactly… low maintenance."

Sarah narrowed her eyes. "So what, you're kicking me out now?"

"Not kicking you out," Harriet said with a smile. "Just… helping you figure things out. Like a friend. You need a plan, and lucky for you, I've got one."

And if that didn't work, she had plenty more. Anything to get Sarah out of her small space. The woman had only been there a few days, and already Harriet felt suffocated by her entitlement. She could only imagine how Sarah's family had managed to live with her for years.

"I'm not taking any more advice from you," Sarah snapped, snatching her phone from the chipped wooden table. "The last time I did, I lost my job, and any chance of getting back on Mr. Lewis's good side."

"Fine," Harriet said, shrugging. "But what's your plan, then? You going to stay here forever with no job, no prospects? Because from where I'm standing, you're waving goodbye to your fancy lifestyle."

Sarah rolled her eyes, but the flicker of desperation in her chest kept her from walking away. As much as she hated to admit it, Harriet wasn't entirely wrong.

Harriet leaned in. "Go back to your family."

Sarah scoffed. "Have you lost your mind? Did you see the way they looked at me today? My mother slapped me in front of everyone. Zainab all but spat in my face. They're never going to take me back."

Harriet waved her hand dismissively. "Oh please. Families fight. Mothers slap. Sisters scream. It's all love in the end. You just need to sell it."

"Sell what?"

"Redemption," Harriet said sweetly. "Go home in the morning. Knock on the door all teary-eyed, looking like a lost lamb. Say you were possessed, blinded by jealousy, whatever. Say it was the devil's whisper. Cry a little, scratch that, cry a lot. Your mother won't resist. You know how Musu is. She'll open that door and pull you into her arms like it's a Nollywood reunion."

Sarah hesitated. The idea sounded absurd. Insulting, even.

But it was better than staying in this cramped, run-down space, sleeping on a couch that smelled like burnt popcorn and cheap perfume.

"You think they'll really believe I've changed?" Sarah asked quietly, skeptical but… wavering.

"They want to," Harriet said, brushing invisible lint from her top. "People always want to believe the prodigal daughter has returned. Especially mothers."

Sarah stood in silence for a moment, biting the inside of her cheek.

It was humiliating. But what choice did she have?

"All I have to do… is cry?"

Harriet smirked. "And look sorry enough to melt a stone."

With a slow nod, Sarah gave in. "Fine. I'll go."

"Good girl," Harriet said, already reaching for her wine glass. "Make sure you wear something tragic. Like that beige dress. Looks pitiful on you."

Sarah ignored the jab. Her eyes were distant now, already visualizing her mother's front porch. Her knees hitting the tiles. Her voice shaking with fabricated remorse.

Maybe, just maybe, if she played it well, she could reclaim her place. Not just in the house. But in their lives.

And after that… who knew?

The following morning found Sarah standing at the door of her family home. She hesitated for a long moment before pressing the doorbell, swallowing her pride with each shaky breath.

When the door opened, Musu froze, stunned to see her daughter standing there, especially after everything that had happened the day before.

"Ma," Sarah said, her voice trembling. Her eyes were already misty as she stepped forward and wrapped her arms tightly around her mother. "Ma, I'm sorry," she whispered, clinging to her.

Musu stood motionless, her mind reeling. She didn't know what to say, didn't even know what to feel. Everything felt surreal.

"I know what I did yesterday was wrong," Sarah continued, her voice cracking. "I've truly repented. Please, Ma… forgive me. I can't live without my family." She squeezed her eyes shut, forcing the tears to fall.

Just then, Zianab appeared from the kitchen. Her eyes snapped toward the door, and her expression immediately hardened when she saw Sarah.

"What is she doing here?" Zianab demanded as she approached. "Ma, what's going on?" Her glare shifted to Sarah. "You really are something, aren't you? After the scene you caused yesterday, you still have the guts to show up?"

"Ma… Zianab… I'm really sorry," Sarah said, turning desperately toward her mother. "I don't know what came over me. I was wrong—so wrong to ruin Esther's day. I don't deserve your forgiveness, but I've changed. I just want to make things right."

Zianab scoffed. "If you really want to make things right, then leave. Honestly, your absence would be the best thing for this family."

"Ma, please don't send me away," Sarah cried, dropping to her knees. "I want to repent, I swear. I know I messed up, but this is my family. I'm begging you, please don't give up on me."

Musu stood there, a part of her heart softening at the sight. This was the moment she had long hoped for, the turning point in her daughter's life. Maybe Sarah had finally come around.

"Zianab.." Musu began gently.

But Zianab cut her off with a sharp tone and an even sharper glare. "No, Ma. Don't start. Don't ask me to forgive her. You saw what she did yesterday. She knew exactly what she was doing. She came to destroy Esther's ceremony."

"She's changed," Musu whispered, her voice pleading. "She's on her knees, doesn't that mean something? She's your sister. Doesn't she deserve another chance?"

"Another chance?" Zianab repeated, incredulous. "How many more do we have to give her before we accept she'll never change? This.." she gestured at Sarah,"this is just another performance. She's not sorry. She's scheming."

Her words hung in the air like a blade, sharp and unmoving.

Musu stepped forward, placing a hand gently on Zianab's arm. "Please, Zianab," she said, her voice soft and pleading. "I know what she did was unforgivable… but she's still your sister. Can't we give her just one more chance?"

Zianab pulled her arm away. "You keep saying one more chance, Ma, but how many has it been? Five? Ten? She only shows up when things fall apart. And now you want us to forget everything just because she's crying?" Her eyes darted to Sarah. "That's not remorse. That's strategy."

Before Musu could respond, the sound of light footsteps echoed from inside. Esther appeared at the doorway, her brows furrowed with confusion and concern.

"What's going on?" she asked, her eyes sweeping from her mother to Zianab, then finally landing on the woman still kneeling at the doorstep.

"Esther," Musu said quickly, her voice thick with emotion. "It's Sarah… she came to apologize." She stepped aside, revealing Sarah still on her knees, eyes red and pleading. "Please talk to her… forgive her. Let's fix this as a family."

Esther stood frozen, the weight of the moment bearing down on her. The woman who had nearly destroyed her ceremony, her joy, her peace, was now kneeling in front of her, head bowed.

"Please," Musu said again, wiping her eyes. "For me, Esther. I don't want to lose either of you."

Sarah clenched her jaw and lowered her gaze. Everything in her screamed against it, but she forced herself to shift forward, dropping both knees firmly to the ground in front of Esther.

"I'm sorry," she said stiffly, her voice almost catching. "I was wrong. I let jealousy and pride blind me. I humiliated you… and myself. Please, forgive me. Let me come back… let me make it right."

But behind the remorse in her tone, a storm brewed inside her, a silent vow that one day, she would return the shame she was swallowing now. Esther would pay for this humiliation.

Zianab scoffed loudly. "Esther, don't do it. Don't let her or Ma guilt you into this. You owe her nothing. She came to ruin your day, and the only reason she's here now is because it didn't work."

"Zianab, please," Musu cried, tears rolling freely down her cheeks. "This family is all I have. I've made mistakes… maybe I was too soft. But don't let this family break apart like this."

Esther looked at her mother, truly looked at her. The years of worry and age that lined her face. The pain that trembled in her hands. And beneath all that… hope.

She turned slowly to Sarah, then down to the broken figure kneeling in front of her. Could she trust her? No. Would she forget the pain? Never. But sometimes, peace meant choosing grace over justice.

With a slow breath, Esther nodded.

"Alright," she said softly. "You can stay."

Sarah's head dropped lower in what seemed like gratitude, though her fists quietly clenched behind her skirt.

Zianab stared at Esther, betrayed. "Unbelievable," she muttered, then turned to her mother. "You're both blind. And I'm not sticking around to watch this circus play out again."

"Zianab.." Musu began, but her daughter had already spun around and stormed off, the sound of her footsteps echoing in bitter finality.

A tense silence followed. Musu wiped her tears. Sarah slowly got to her feet. Esther said nothing, only turned back inside, her heart heavier than she expected.

Forgiveness was given. But peace… peace would take time.