Chapter 5 - THE NAME CLARA REFUSED TO SAY
Clara's face drained of color.
Mrs. Adamu recovered first.
"Bring him inside."
"No!" Clara shouted.
Everyone stared.
Clara had never raised her voice in that house.
Mr. Adamu frowned.
"Why not?"
Clara backed away.
"I don't want to see him."
Mrs. Adamu laughed bitterly.
"So now you suddenly know how to speak?"
Stella stepped beside Clara.
"Leave her alone."
Mr. Adamu went to the gate himself.
But the stranger was already gone.
He had left something behind.
A small envelope.
Clara recognized the handwriting.
She refused to touch it.
Mr. Adamu opened it.
Inside were five words:
I'M READY TO TELL THEM.
Clara began crying.
"Who is he?" her uncle demanded.
Clara shook her head.
"Tell me!"
"I can't."
Mrs. Adamu stared at her.
Then suddenly something seemed to occur to her.
"Is it Daniel?"
Clara looked confused.
"Who?"
Mrs. Adamu relaxed slightly.
That reaction didn't escape Stella.
Later, Stella asked Clara about it.
"I don't know any Daniel except the lawyer."
"My mom thought she knew who the father was."
"Apparently she was wrong."
"Then who is he?"
Clara looked at Stella.
"I loved him."
"Past tense?"
Clara's eyes filled.
"I don't know anymore."
She explained only part of the story.
Months earlier, while studying and working part-time, Clara had met a young man named Ethan.
He was kind.
Patient.
He knew she had lost her parents.
He listened when she talked about them.
They fell in love.
Then Clara became pregnant.
Ethan didn't abandon her.
Quite the opposite.
He wanted to marry her.
"So why are you hiding him?" Stella asked.
"Because his family hates mine."
"Why?"
Clara looked away.
"I don't know the whole story."
"And Auntie knows him?"
"I don't think she does."
The mystery deepened two days later when Ethan returned.
This time Clara met him outside.
He looked exhausted.
"You can't keep doing this," he told her.
"My uncle will throw me out."
"Then come with me."
"Where?"
"Home."
"Your mother doesn't want me."
"I don't care."
"I do."
Ethan stepped closer.
"Our baby shouldn't grow up inside a war between two families."
Clara wiped her tears.
"You promised you'd give me time."
"I did. Then I heard you collapsed."
Clara stared at him.
"Who told you?"
Ethan hesitated.
"Someone called me."
"Who?"
"I don't know."
From an upstairs window, Mrs. Adamu watched them.
She couldn't see Ethan's face clearly.
Then he turned.
Mrs. Adamu dropped the curtain.
Her hands started shaking.
"No."
She knew him.
Not personally.
But she knew that face.
Because Ethan looked exactly like his father had looked twenty years earlier.
Mrs. Adamu grabbed her phone.
She called a number she hadn't used in years.
A man answered.
She whispered:
"Your son is standing outside my house."
Silence.
Then the man said:
"Then Clara finally knows?"
"No."
"She deserves to."
Mrs. Adamu gripped the phone.
"If you come anywhere near this family—"
"You don't get to threaten me anymore."
Mrs. Adamu's breathing stopped.
"You've been hiding the truth for nineteen years."
The call ended.
Behind her, the bedroom door creaked.
Stella stood there.
She had heard everything.
"Nineteen years?" she whispered.
Her mother turned.
Stella stared at her.
May you like
"Mom... what happened nineteen years ago?"
And this time Mrs. Adamu couldn't simply order her daughter out of the room.
