Something about her stillness unsettled him.
“Good morning,” Toby said.
She nodded without warmth.
As the girls woke and morning chaos filled the house, Bolanle moved like a visitor in her own home. She watched them, but seemed far away.
After breakfast, Toby prepared to leave for his workshop.
“I may work late,” he said. “A farmer asked me to repair a cart.”
Bolanle nodded.
When the girls left for school and Toby disappeared down the road, silence fell.
Bolanle sat alone on the bench near the doorway, heart pounding.
Then the sound of a vehicle broke the stillness.
A black SUV stopped outside.
Her breath caught.
Chief Balogun stepped out.
“I told you yesterday,” he said calmly. “If you truly want to leave this place, today is the day.”
Bolanle looked back at the house.
Behind her were her daughters, her husband, her life.
Ahead of her was the car—and everything she had convinced herself she deserved.
For one brief moment, guilt pierced her chest.
Then fear of staying poor overcame it.
She stepped inside the house one last time. Her eyes moved across the cracked walls, Toby’s handmade chairs, the woven mats where the girls slept, the corner where Titi kept her toys.
Emotion flickered across her face.
But she pushed it down.
Then she walked back outside and entered the SUV.
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