Chapter Thirty Seven

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Let's begin!

*Picture of Noah above*

~°AKUM°~

All our way through the drive down to the house, Mum hasn't even paused on her rants for even a single second. My head hurts. It's spinning and she isn't even helping my situation.

All she can speak of is how irresponsible, selfish and reckless I am and how much of a bad daughter I am, stealing three hundred thousand naira from her to sneak out with my boyfriend or as she calls it, young zaddy.

She even mentioned something about calling the police if I wasn't her daughter. She goes way too extreme at times and I swear it is so annoying. I can't help but ask why I don't have ear pods yet. Situations like this call for them.

I couldn't even stand another second downstairs, which led to my indoor self isolation in my room. I still hear her quarrelling and yelling my name helter skelter to Aunt Zara and I am sure as hell Aunt Zara is as confused as I am.

To be honest, that isn't what scares or worries me most. The thing in my mind right now is how in the world did the twenty thousand naira get to be pinned on me? I know I didn't steal it and I know I don't receive visitors so how in the world was the money found in my room? My own room?

I should suspect Chantelle but... She hasn't visited in like forever. Neither has anyone from school. Aunt Zara could never do such a thing and Mum.. I doubt she can. She isn't so ruthless.

Then, how?

A call comes from my phone and interrupts my thoughts immediately. It's Noah.

I pick the call and place the phone on my right ear, clearing my throat so he doesn't suspect anything. Although, he should.

"Hey," I say in a low tone.

"Are you okay?" he asks and a line of tear slowly crawls down my eye. I clean it up with my palm, trying to sound completely normal once again.

"Yes. Yes, Noah. I'm fine," I reply.

"You don't sound fine, Akum. Akum, are you crying?" he asks in a very concerned tone and I can only imagine the look on his face.

"No, Noah," I say and immediately, burst out in a stream of tears. I can't stop it and it keeps choking me, my eyes reddening and voice cracky. I'm tempted to cut the call, but I don't. "I'm not crying," I lie.

"I can hear you. You're crying. Should I come over after school?" he asks with so much confidence in his tone, like my parents wouldn't murder him if he does.

"No. It's okay," I reply with a shrug.

"Should we still hold the date?" he asks in almost a whisper and I know he thinks it wrong to ask that now but to be sincere, that's exactly what I need right now. A really good distraction from all this drama.

"No. Pick me by seven," I reply and just then, I hear my name screamed from downstairs and my heart races. It's Dad.

"Call you later, Noah. Bye!" I hang up immediately and hurry downstairs.

Nothing good can come out of this day.

"Good afternoon, Dad." I say, standing in front of his masculine and well built body that towered against my little one. My head is bent to my chest and I fear to look him straight in the face.

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