COLD FIRE: A dark series special

PART THREE

 

Chrissy took my hand in hers and said something strange to me. What she proposed was unthinkable. Mother's gaze was fixed on me the entire time, and I could feel it digging holes behind me. Chrissy's hurried murmurs were difficult for me to decipher. “I think you should look into Elijah and.... your father.” Before she was hurried away from me, cuffed, and transferred to the inner cell, I barely had time to ask her why it was so crucial to include father on the list of individuals of interest in this case. Mother's frigid hands rested on my exposed shoulder, where my sleeveless top ended. Even if she wanted to, Amara would never wear anything sleeveless. The large stretch mark on both sides of her hands that ran from her armpit to her forearm was enough to make her aware of them. It was always a source of anxiety for her. She had tried every promised product on the market, but none of them had worked for her. One in particular had thickened them. She gave up on finding a solution and resigned herself to wearing shirts that would reveal her flat tummy and flawless naval, which contrasted with my round protruding navel, which was impossible to conceal in dresses. 

“Did she say anything to you?” 

“It's Elijah,” . Amara's boyfriend. I considered telling her about the part she requested that Father be questioned as well. It was impossible for Father to be involved in something like this. I cast a glance at Father, who was standing at the counter, conversing with a police officer. He would run his hands across his neatly shaved head every now and then, he wouldn't let the hair grow, and would go to the salon every two weeks. "She said we should question Elijah. That she was innocent of the accusation.”

 Mother was quite well aware that I was concealing something from her. She dragged me to a corner as soon as we returned from the police station. “Did she say anything to you about who killed your sister? Is there any reason why Amara is their target?” she asked quietly. She lobbied for the case to be dismissed, but she was keen to track down the perpetrator.
“She suggested that we have Dad investigated. It can't possibly signify anything.” As soon as the words left my mouth, I saw Mother's expression. The uttermost denial and incredulity.

We didn't eat dinner that night, and I had trouble sleeping. I kept seeing visions of Father stabbing Amara till she could no longer breathe. Father was a unique individual. He cared for us. Father was a generous man who adored his children and all other children. He had single-handedly sponsored a school trip to Ogbudu Cattle Ranch the year I didn't finish first in my class. I wasn't allowed to go because my performance for the term had disappointed him. That was the last time I considered joking about with my schooling. Father's discipline techniques were always a mystery to Amara. He may be obsessed with education since, unlike us, his father was unable to afford to support him to university. No way could Father have killed Amara.

Our family was transformed shortly after Amara was laid to rest. We were trailed by a dark cloud. Mother became estranged from Father and refused to speak to him; it took over six months of counseling for her to modify her ways. She rose to the position of the head of the table and made all of the decisions concerning our family. Father's voice was silenced. Mother, on the other hand, remained by his side.

I'm thirty years now, and can't help but wonder what would have happened if Father had been interrogated. Amara would be able to rest peacefully. She wakes me up late at night, and the nightmares I had at the initial period of her death haunt me 15 years later. Dear Reader, you may think Amara is a fictional character, but she is my sister and the daughter of my father's estranged lover.

Everyone but me seemed to be aware of the circumstances surrounding Amara's birth. With this new discovery, I now have a deeper understanding of Father's attitude toward Amara, I now see why Amara always referred to me as the golden child.

My name is Chinelo Nweze, and I'd like for the case of Amara Nweze to be reopened. 

 

 

AUTHOR’S NOTE

Thank you so much for taking the time to read this. From the beginning, I was delighted to write this story, and towards the end, I felt sucked into it. This is the first time I've ever felt dizzy. It's the first time I've let a story end on its own terms. I worked so hard to come up with a new ending. I believe the disorientation stems from my desire to change the ending to suit my own desires for the story, but I have chosen to give Chinelo Nweze her own ending.

In the end it is God's love for us that means the most. 

Thank you and stay blessed.