The house was quiet, wrapped in a heaviness that words couldn't carry. Esther sat curled on the bed, her nightgown slipping off one shoulder, eyes fixed on the open book in her hands. But she wasn't reading. Not really.
She hadn't said much to Daniel since he returned from work. She cared, of course she did, but she hadn't looked his way, not even when he left again for the study. Her mind was tangled in their earlier fight, weighed down by everything that had happened and what hadn't been said.
Just then, the bedroom door creaked open. Daniel entered after two soft knocks, peeking in before stepping fully into the room.
He exhaled quietly, then walked toward her with cautious steps.
"Esther… can we talk?" he asked.
She didn't look up. No sign that she heard him. Still, he continued.
"John confessed," he said slowly. "And… it was your sister, Sarah. She sent him."
The book snapped shut in Esther's hands. Her head lifted sharply, her eyes locking onto his like he had just uttered a forbidden curse.
"Sarah?" Her voice cracked, the name falling out like a wound.
Daniel nodded. "Yes. He named her directly. She's been arrested."
Esther lowered her feet to the floor, tugging the loose sleeve of her nightgown back over her shoulder. Her thoughts raced.
"I… I don't understand," she said, her voice laced with disbelief. "Are you sure? Sarah? She really had something to do with my attack?"
Her expression tightened, torn between anger and something more painful, realization. She knew what Sarah was capable of. But this? Sending someone to violate her? That was a level of cruelty she hadn't let herself imagine.
Daniel's gaze didn't shift. "She also sold company secrets," he added flatly.
Esther's breath caught. "What?" Her face dropped in guilt. "God… she shouldn't have been taken back. I'm so sorry."
She lowered her eyes, pain etched across her face. If she hadn't insisted, Daniel wouldn't have rehired Sarah. She had pushed, pleaded, convinced him to give her another chance. And now… this.
Daniel stepped closer, gentler now. "Esther, it's not your fault," he said. "You were just trying to be a good sister. You wanted to help her."
His voice shifted, firm with conviction. "But Sarah—she's ungrateful. Dangerous. And I'm going to make sure she rots in jail for what she's done."
Esther stared at the floor, her chest rising and falling, the truth heavy on her shoulders. She had loved her sister, defended her, trusted her. And now she had to face what Sarah really was.
And worse, their mother must be shattered, broken and torn apart by the news of her daughter behind bars.
Esther's eyes drifted, pain gnawing inside her chest as her thoughts shifted to Musu.
"I can't believe she did all of that," she murmured, sinking back onto the bed. "She didn't even think about Ma… what this would do to her."
She buried her face in her hands.
Daniel walked over and sat beside her, his voice low but steady. "I know this is hard. And it'll be even harder for your mother to accept," he said, "but it's for the best. Sarah has to be punished, Esther."
And deep down, Esther knew he was right. Sarah deserved every consequence coming her way. Still, she could only hope their mother would come to accept the truth, no matter how much it hurt.
Daniel exhaled, brushing a hand down the front of his trousers as he stood.
"I only came to tell you," he said gently. "I'll be in the study if you need anything."
Esther gave a small nod, not trusting her voice to speak.
Just as Daniel turned toward the door, it creaked open.
Betty stepped in, clutching a book to her chest. "Oh, sorry," she said quietly. "I didn't mean to interrupt."
"It's fine," Daniel replied, stepping aside to let her in. "You ladies have a good night."
"Actually…" Betty said, stopping him halfway. She turned fully toward her father. "I want to sleep between you two tonight."
Daniel raised a brow, surprised. "You do?"
"My teacher said a child gets more peace of mind when she sleeps with both her parents," she added quickly, half-truthfully, half-strategically. She and LadyBell had come up with the idea after noticing how quiet things had been between her parents lately.
Daniel gave a soft chuckle. "Betty, I can't tonight. I have to…"
"You're not going to turn down my request and break my heart, are you?" she cut in gently, her voice tinged with playful sadness and a hint of real emotion.
Daniel hesitated, glancing at Esther for guidance.
"Esther Mom…" Betty turned to her, hopeful. "Will you let Dad sleep with us tonight? Just tonight?"
Her eyes, wide and earnest, searched Esther's.
Esther looked at Betty, those pleading eyes, so full of innocence and hope. Then she looked at Daniel, whose gaze, for the first time in days, held no pride, no distance, just quiet sincerity.
She sighed softly and gave a small nod.
"Alright," she said. "Just tonight."
Betty's face lit up. "Yes!" she beamed, hurrying to the other side of the bed and climbing in between them.
Daniel chuckled quietly and eased back onto the mattress. It had been a while since the three of them shared a bed. He adjusted the pillows, careful not to invade Esther's space, and leaned back as Betty tugged the blanket over herself.
"Which one of you is going to read me a story?" she asked, looking at her mom and dad while opening her book.
Daniel looked at the cover and smiled. "How about I tell you one instead? A better one. One that isn't in the book but should be."
Betty's eyes sparkled with curiosity. "Is it a true story?"
"Oh yes," he replied, glancing briefly at Esther before settling his gaze on the ceiling. "Very true."
She nodded excitedly and snuggled into the covers. "Okay. Go on."
He cleared his throat and began, his voice low and even, weaving the words gently.
"There once was a man," he said, "a strong man who had everything, power, success, respect. But what made him whole wasn't any of that. It was a woman."
Esther's eyes slowly shifted toward him.
"A woman who carried light in her smile and peace in her silence. She was everything he didn't know he needed. But the man… well, he got too used to her strength. Took it for granted. Thought she would always understand, always be okay, even when he wasn't fair."
Betty blinked, listening closely. "Is this child friendly?" She asked, smiling at her Dad's assured smile.
"One day, something happened that scared them both. It shook their world. And instead of being there for her, the man shut her out. Not because he didn't care, but because he didn't know how to handle his own emotions. He forgot that she needed him, too."
Daniel paused, letting the words settle. He didn't need to look at Esther to know she was listening.
"But now," he continued, "the man wants to do better. He misses her. He misses the way she looks at him when she's proud, and the way she falls asleep when she feels safe beside him. He just hopes… that one day, she can forgive him for being blind to her pain."
Silence fell for a moment. Betty looked between them, sensing more than she understood.
"Did the woman forgive him?" she asked.
Daniel smiled faintly and replied, "That's still part of the story. Maybe… she will. If she sees that his heart was always hers."
Esther swallowed hard, the weight of his words settling in the space between them. She didn't speak, but she reached out, her hand brushing lightly over Betty's, then resting beside Daniel's. Not quite holding it. But close enough.
A quiet peace slipped in. The night finally felt still.
Betty smiled and whispered, "Best story ever."
The morning sunlight filtered through the curtains, brushing soft gold across the room. Esther stirred slowly, the cool sheets brushing against her legs as she blinked into wakefulness. She sat up, rubbing sleep from her eyes, when something struck her.
The photo.
Her eyes immediately darted to the dresser across the room, the spot where Marain's portrait had always sat, elegantly framed, eternally smiling.
It was gone.
She frowned, glancing around the room. The photo above the vanity, also gone. Her heartbeat quickened, not with fear, but a strange fluttering uncertainty.
Pulling on a robe, she stepped off the bed and padded barefoot through the hallway. Her eyes roamed the walls, and she paused again. One by one, every photo that once belonged to Marain had been replaced, not with blank walls, but with new memories.
Photos of her and Daniel. Of Betty. Of birthdays and vacations and dinners. Of laughter.
Her fingers brushed the edge of one, her favorite, actually. The one from their wedding, when Betty had thrown petals all over the aisle and Daniel had looked at her like she was the only thing that mattered.
"Good morning."
Esther turned to see Daniel at the end of the hallway, apron still on, a soft grin on his face. The smell of breakfast wafted around him, spiced eggs, something with cinnamon, maybe muffins too.
"What's going on?" she asked, her voice low, confused, heart racing for all the right reasons.
"I wanted to start this morning… right," Daniel said gently. "So, I made breakfast."
He led her down to the dining table where three steaming plates sat, perfectly arranged. Betty sat in her seat already, beaming. "Daddy made everything!" she chirped.
Esther took her seat slowly, still glancing around at the walls.
Daniel crouched next to her, taking her hand in his. "I'm sorry I didn't let go of the past earlier," he said softly. "You were right. I was holding onto memories that kept me from embracing what I have now."
He kissed the back of her hand.
"I'm ready to live in the present, with you. And build a future that honors us. So, if you'll let me… I'd love for us to start over."
Esther stared at him, heart full, throat tight. Around them, the house no longer felt like a museum of someone else's memory. It felt like home, finally, their home.
And for the first time in a long while, she smiled, not just with her lips, but all the way from her soul.
Esther didn't respond right away. Her eyes stayed locked on his, full of unspoken things, gratitude, love, and a trace of pain finally melting.
Then, without a word, she leaned forward and kissed him, soft and slow, with her hand resting gently against his cheek. It wasn't fiery or rushed. It was quiet, deep, and full of forgiveness.
Daniel closed his eyes briefly, letting himself breathe it in. A new beginning.
"Ahem."
They both turned, startled, to see Betty glaring at them over a forkful of eggs.
"I'm still here," she said with mock seriousness. "And I'm still a child."
Esther burst into laughter, leaning back as Daniel chuckled and reached to ruffle Betty's hair. "Thanks for the reminder, madam."
Betty smiled proudly. "You're welcome."
The three of them dove into breakfast together, joking, laughing, passing food between each other like they hadn't in weeks. Daniel fed Betty a piece of muffin, and Esther wiped syrup off her daughter's chin with a mother's instinctive grace. It was ordinary. It was warm. It was perfect.
Then Esther glanced at Daniel, her tone shifting just slightly. "So… there's something I should tell you."
His fork paused mid-air.
"There's a school picnic this afternoon ," she began casually, slicing into her food. "Betty really wants to go. And I already agreed to go with her… and Dija's coming too."
Daniel froze. The calmness drained from his face. "A picnic?"
Esther's brows drew slightly together. "Yes. It's at Victoria's par, open, supervised. Nothing wild, just a class event."
He slowly lowered his fork. His eyes shifted, distant. "No."
Esther blinked. "What?"
"I don't want you going," he said more firmly. "I don't want Betty near something like that. Not… not a picnic. Not again."
Esther studied him, her brows gently drawn. "Daniel, it's safe. This isn't.."
"That can't be certain," he interrupted, voice low and tight with buried pain. "I can't risk that again, not with you, not with Betty."
His words hung heavy in the room. Esther's heart sank. She understood now, this wasn't just overprotection. It was fear. Fear born from loss. The kind that never truly fades.
"Daniel…" she said softly, her voice almost a whisper.
"I'm trying to protect you," he continued, his gaze avoiding hers. "Trips like that… long highways, crowded buses. One second is all it takes, and everything changes. I've lived that once, I won't survive it again."
"I know," Esther said, gently cutting in, her tone warm and understanding. "I do. And I don't want to fight you on this. But I need you to trust me. Please, Daniel… we'll be careful."
She looked at him, her eyes open and pleading. Not for permission, just for faith.
Before he could respond, the sharp buzz of his phone sliced through the moment. It vibrated against the wooden table, stealing both their attention.
He glanced down. His expression shifted. Without a word, he grabbed the phone and stepped away.
Esther nodded silently, watching him walk away toward the balcony, a tension suddenly threading the air again.
Outside, with the early sun casting sharp lines across the marble, Daniel answered.
"What is it, Thomas?"
"Sorry to disturb you, sir," Thomas's voice came, clipped and grave. "But… John's dead."
Daniel's jaw clenched. "What?"
"He escaped last night. Slipped through the warehouse guards. Didn't get far."
Daniel gripped the railing tightly. "How did it happen?"
"He was killed. Shot twice, execution-style. And the body? It's already been taken. Cleaned up, covered. Not by us, by the Jallohs."
The silence that followed was cold and deep.
Of course. The Jallohs.
Daniel's breath slowed, controlled, but his eyes darkened with fury. They were tying loose ends. Eliminating evidence. Killing the truth before it could reach a courtroom.
And now they'd made a mistake, because in their effort to cover their tracks, they'd only fueled his resolve.
"They think they can end it there," Daniel muttered, more to himself than to Thomas. "But I swear… this isn't over. They've just declared war."
His fingers slowly loosened on the railing, but the storm was already rising behind his eyes.