The one bedroom apartment they rented still smelled faintly of paint and dust, but to Tessa it felt like paradise compared to the years of damp earth, iron chains, and whispers of death in the forest. She sat on the thin mattress that lay in the corner of the room, listening to Mariam humming softly as she stirred rice in a battered pot they had bought with part of Ayisha's stolen money.
The windows were cracked open, letting in the noise of the city—children playing on the street, a man shouting prices of roasted corn, a motorcycle rattling by. For the first time in years, the sound of ordinary life surrounded them.
But peace didn't last long in Tessa's mind. Every thought circled back to her children. Where were they? Did they still remember her? Did they think she had abandoned them? The ache grew sharper every night.
Ayisha dropped down onto the floor with a sigh, fanning herself with a piece of cardboard. "This city is hot like fire. And noisy too."
"You'll get used to it," Mariam said gently, adding a pinch of salt into the pot. "At least no one is beating us here. No one is ordering us to fetch water or carry firewood until our backs break."
Ayisha chuckled dryly. "True. I almost don't know how to sit still without someone shouting at me."
They laughed lightly, but Tessa stayed quiet. She was chewing her lower lip, staring at her bare feet.
Ayisha noticed. She leaned closer. "Tessa, you're thinking again. Spit it out."
Tessa's eyes lifted slowly, heavy with longing. "It's my children. I can't sit here when they are somewhere in this city. I saw Chloe. She was with Lady Bianca. That means my children must be with her. I need to go."
Mariam paused with the spoon in her hand. "Tessa… we only just got out. You need to rest, to heal. You can't rush like this. What if…"
But Ayisha cut in sharply. "Wait. Are you saying Chloe is with your children? Are you sure that's what you saw?"
"Yes," Tessa replied firmly, though her voice trembled at the edges. "Chloe is a good friend. She was my best friend. I know her heart. She must be helping Lady Bianca take care of my babies."
Ayisha sat up straighter, her brows knitting. "No, no, no. Tessa, don't be so quick to trust. Have you forgotten? Wasn't it Chloe who told you to run that night? The same night you were caught and dragged away? If she was really on your side, why would she put you in danger?"
Tessa stiffened, her hands curling into fists. "She told me to run because she wanted to save me. I should have listened. If I did, maybe I wouldn't have been kidnapped. Chloe wanted the best for me."
Ayisha's tone hardened. "Or maybe she wanted you gone. Maybe she made sure you ran so the kidnappers would take you. Think, Tessa! Not everyone smiling at you is your friend."
The air in the room grew heavy. Mariam shifted uncomfortably, glancing from one woman to the other. She hated when arguments sparked, but she knew this one came from pain on both sides.
Tessa's voice cracked as she defended Chloe. "No, you don't understand! Chloe has always been kind. She wouldn't betray me. And if she's with Lady Bianca, then it means she's keeping my children safe. My babies must be okay." Her eyes filled with tears, and she wiped them quickly with the back of her hand.
Ayisha scoffed softly, shaking her head. "Hope is sweet, but it can blind you. Just because you want it to be true doesn't make it true."
Silence fell. Only the bubbling of the rice filled the room.
Mariam finally spoke, her tone calm but firm. "Let's not fight. We've all suffered too much already. Tessa, I understand your heart. If I had children, I would feel the same. But Ayisha also has a point. We don't know who to trust yet. The city is full of lies. One wrong step could drag us back into another trap."
Tessa swallowed hard. "I can't wait anymore, Mariam. Every night I dream of their faces. I see them crying for me. If I sit here, I will go mad. Tomorrow, I'm going to find them."
Ayisha raised her eyebrows. "Tomorrow? Just like that?"
"Yes." Tessa's voice was steady now, strengthened by desperation. "I've been away from them too long. My heart can't take it. Chloe is there. She'll make it easier for me. I'll walk up to her, and she'll understand. She'll help me."
Mariam placed the spoon down, exhaling slowly. She studied Tessa's worn face—the hollow cheeks, the scars on her wrists, the fire still glowing in her eyes despite everything. There was no changing her mind.
"If you go," Mariam said softly, "then we won't let you go alone."
Ayisha blinked. "Wait, what?"
Mariam nodded with quiet determination. "Tessa is our sister now. We escaped death together. If she chooses to face this tomorrow, then we'll stand beside her."
Tessa looked at Mariam with gratitude, her throat tight. "Thank you."
Ayisha frowned, conflicted, but after a moment she sighed. "Fine. I don't like this. I don't trust Chloe. But I won't let you walk into trouble alone either. If you're going, then I'll come too."
Relief washed over Tessa, and for the first time that evening, a small smile tugged at her lips.
Mariam returned the smile, though hers was tinged with worry. "Then it's decided. Tomorrow, we'll go together."
The three women sat in silence for a moment, each lost in her own thoughts. The rice was ready, and Mariam dished it into small bowls. They ate quietly, the weight of tomorrow pressing down on them.
Outside, laughter of neighborhood children drifted in, sharp and bright against the shadows of their tiny apartment.
Tessa closed her eyes as she chewed, whispering a silent prayer: Please, let my children still know me. Please let Chloe truly be my friend.
***
By midnight, the city had grown quiet. The hum of crickets replaced the daytime noise, and the flickering bulb in their apartment cast soft shadows on the walls.
The three women lay close together on the mattress, their breathing uneven.
Ayisha muttered into the darkness, "I still think this is madness."
Mariam reached over and squeezed her hand. "Madness maybe, but sometimes love is madness. Let's just pray it doesn't break us."
Tessa stayed awake the longest, her eyes wide open, fixed on the cracked ceiling. Her heart pounded with both fear and hope. Tomorrow, after years of slavery, she would finally take a step toward her children.