Chapter 4 - Confrontation at the StorefrontThat night, I didn't sleep a single second.
I packed one small brown leather bag, tucked Tobennaâs original black-and-white photograph into my pocket, left Obinna with my trusted neighbor, and boarded the dawn bus to Enugu.
The three-hour bus ride felt like thirty years. Eight years of grief, pain, unpaid bills, and sleepless nights boiled inside my chest, turning my sorrow into a cold, diamond-hard rage.
At nine o'clock in the morning, I stood across the street from Nwafor Luxury Fabrics.
The shop was magnificentâglass display windows, gold lettering, and fine silk mannequins.
Standing on the tiled sidewalk outside was Tobenna. He was wearing a dark blue button-down shirt, laughing as he lifted a seven-year-old little girl in a pink dress into his arms. Beside him stood his elegant new wife, wearing a tan blazer and a gold watch.
He looked happy. He looked prosperous. He looked completely free of sin.
I crossed the street, my worn sandals slapping against the pavement, my heart hammering against my ribs like a trapped bird.
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Tobenna set the little girl down. His eyes drifted over to me.
The laughter froze on his lips. His face drained of every drop of color, turning an ash-grey as if he were staring at a ghost rising from the earth.
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