The Christmas season came and went for Sonia and Kemi as it always did—a muted, shadowed affair in the loud, celebratory house of their father. The memory of the market incident and James's kindness was a secret treasure Sonia carried, a flicker of warmth in the cold.
Soon after, a new dynamic entered the household: their stepmother, Amelia, gave birth to a baby girl, named Mary. The arrival of a daughter into Amelia's own family did little to soften her towards her stepdaughters. If anything, it seemed to heighten the contrast, as Amelia doted on her own little girl while continuing to treat Sonia and Kemi as nuisances.
Watching this, Kemi, who had been sheltered for years at their grandmother's, felt the sting of rejection more acutely than Sonia. One evening, huddled together on their mat, she broke down.
"Sonia, I cannot bear it here. Is there truly no one for us? What of our mother? Do you know nothing?" Kemi whispered, her voice thick with tears.
Sonia hesitated. The memory of her mother's cold dismissal was a fresh wound. But seeing Kemi's desperation, she relented. "I... I know where she lives," Sonia admitted quietly.
Kemi's eyes lit up with a hope so fierce it broke Sonia's heart. "Then take me! Please, Sonia! This weekend, let us go! Just to see her. Just once!"
Sonia shook her head, the weight of reality pressing down. "No, Kemi. You don't understand. The last time I went... Mama said I should not come time to time. It causes problems for her with her new husband. She was angry."
But Kemi refused to listen. The image of a mother, any mother, was a siren's call she could not resist. "I don't care what she said to you!" Kemi insisted, her voice rising with a stubborn passion Sonia had never seen in her. "She is our mother! She will want to see me. She has to! Please, Sonia, you must take me!"
Sonia was trapped. She was the older sister, the protector. She had borne the brunt of the abuse to shield Kemi. How could she now deny her this one, desperate plea for comfort? Yet, she knew the likely outcome: more rejection, more pain, and the shattering of Kemi's last remaining illusion.
She was caught between protecting her sister from a harsh truth and denying her a fundamental need for a mother's love.
The relentless maltreatment from their stepmother finally broke Sonia's resolve. Seeing the fresh despair in Kemi's eyes, she could no longer bear the weight of the bitter truth alone. "Alright," Sonia whispered one night, holding her sister's hand. "We will go. This weekend."
When the weekend came, they slipped away from their father's house. Claudius saw them leave together, a determined look on Sonia's face and a desperate hope on Kemi's. A pang of something—guilt, foreboding, helplessness—struck him, but he found he had no words to stop them or any right to question their destination. He was left speechless on the veranda, watching his daughters walk away from the home he had let become a prison.
When they arrived at Stella's house and she opened the door, her eyes first fell on Sonia, and a flicker of unease crossed her face. But then her gaze shifted to Kemi.
Time seemed to stop.
"Kemi? My baby!" Stella cried out, her voice cracking with a raw, visceral emotion. She surged forward, pulling the now-teenage Kemi into a crushing embrace, sobbing uncontrollably. "Look at you! My child, my child!"
She covered Kemi's face in kisses, holding her as if she would never let go, all the years of separation pouring out in her tears. She was overjoyed, overwhelmed to be holding the daughter she hadn't seen since she was a small girl.
Kemi melted into the embrace, finally feeling the maternal love she had been starved for for so long.
Standing a few steps away, Sonia watched. She did not smile. She felt like a ghost observing a scene from someone else's life. The words her mother had spoken to her on her last visit—"You cannot come here time to time... it is causing trouble for me"—echoed loudly in her mind, a stark contrast to the unrestrained joy now displayed before her.
Her mother's happiness was genuine, but it was for Kemi. For Sonia, there was only the memory of rejection. She was the bridge that brought them together, but in doing so, she felt more alone than ever, standing in the shadow of a reunion she could not fully share.