The night's performance ended in thunderous applause, but Madam Efua's face was as cold as the moon overhead. She swept through the caravan grounds with the authority of a queen, her crimson shawl trailing like fire.
Naki hurried behind her, clutching her clown mask. Her heart still raced from the secret training with Grandpa Ofori earlier that morning. Every step she took on the wire replayed in her mind—the wobble, the fear, the steadying lesson. She wanted to tell her mother that she was learning balance, that she was ready.
But when she opened her mouth, Efua silenced her with a single glare.
Inside the caravan, the lanterns flickered low. Efua set down her shawl and stared at her reflection in a cracked mirror. For a long moment, the silence pressed heavy.
Then, her voice broke through, softer than Naki expected. "You don't understand, child. You think the ropes will set you free."
Naki frowned. "Isn't that what they did for you, Ma? Everyone says you were the greatest trapeze star in Ghana."
Efua's eyes clouded, and she touched a faint scar along her arm. "I was. Until the night the ropes betrayed me."
Her voice grew distant, like she was telling a ghost story.
"The festival of Kumasi, ten years ago. The tent was packed, the crowd roaring. I soared higher than ever before. But one frayed rope snapped. I fell. The pain… the silence that followed…" She shuddered. "They said I was lucky to live. Lucky—but broken."
Naki's breath caught. She had never heard her mother speak of the accident in detail.
"That night," Efua continued, her hands trembling slightly, "I swore no child of mine would ever hang their life on ropes and wires. I buried my dreams in sawdust and paint—and so will you."
"But Ma," Naki protested, stepping closer, "I'm not afraid! I feel alive up there. I feel like… like I belong."
Efua whirled around, anger flashing in her eyes. "Belong? You belong where I put you! On the ground, as a clown, safe. Do you want to end up shattered like me? A prodigy turned cripple?"
The words struck Naki like a slap. Tears blurred her vision, but she clenched her fists. "I'd rather fall chasing the sky than hide behind a painted smile forever."
For a heartbeat, the caravan was silent except for the faint hiss of the lantern.
Efua's face hardened again, her softness gone. "You'll do as I say. If I see you near those ropes again, I'll tear them down myself."
She turned away, leaving Naki trembling in the corner.
But Naki's heart burned hotter than her tears. Her mother's past might have ended in tragedy, but her own story was just beginning.
And no scar, no fear, no shadow of the past would keep her grounded.