PROLOGUE

The rain that night was merciless, striking the roof like angry drums. Every drop seemed to echo her mother’s cries, rising and falling with each blow from her father’s hand.

Nneka sat in the corner of the small sitting room, her knees pulled tight to her chest. Her tiny fingers trembled as she tried to block her ears, but nothing could shut out the sound of pain.Nneka sat in the corner of the small sitting room, her knees pulled tight to her chest. Her tiny fingers trembled as she tried to block her ears, but nothing could shut out the sound of pain.

Her father’s voice roared through the house — the kind that made even silence afraid.Her father’s voice roared through the house — the kind that made even silence afraid.

“You think you can talk back to me, woman?!”“You think you can talk back to me, woman?!”

Then came the slap. Sharp. Loud. Final.Then came the slap. Sharp. Loud. Final.

Her mother staggered, her wrapper half undone, her face wet — not from the rain, but from tears. Yet she didn’t scream anymore. She only whispered, “Please, for the children…”Her mother staggered, her wrapper half undone, her face wet — not from the rain, but from tears. Yet she didn’t scream anymore. She only whispered, “Please, for the children…”

But the man who once vowed to love her was now a stranger, his eyes cold with something darker than anger.But the man who once vowed to love her was now a stranger, his eyes cold with something darker than anger.

Nneka watched as her mother fell again, her body shaking from exhaustion, not defiance. The lantern light flickered weakly, throwing broken shadows across the room — as though even the light was too afraid to stay.Nneka watched as her mother fell again, her body shaking from exhaustion, not defiance. The lantern light flickered weakly, throwing broken shadows across the room — as though even the light was too afraid to stay.

When the shouting stopped, and her father stormed out into the rain, Nneka crawled to her mother’s side.When the shouting stopped, and her father stormed out into the rain, Nneka crawled to her mother’s side.

“Mama,” she whispered, voice barely audible, “why don’t you leave him?”“Mama,” she whispered, voice barely audible, “why don’t you leave him?”

Her mother’s lips quivered into a faint smile, swollen but soft.Her mother’s lips quivered into a faint smile, swollen but soft.

“Because, my child… love forgives.”“Because, my child… love forgives.”

Nneka froze. The word love tasted bitter. It didn’t sound like something to forgive — it sounded like something to escape.Nneka froze. The word love tasted bitter. It didn’t sound like something to forgive — it sounded like something to escape.

As her mother drifted into uneasy sleep, Nneka sat beside her and stared into the dying lantern flame.As her mother drifted into uneasy sleep, Nneka sat beside her and stared into the dying lantern flame.

That night, she made herself a promise — one she would guard with her life.That night, she made herself a promise — one she would guard with her life.

She would never love any man.She would never love any man.

Not out of hate, but out of fear.Not out of hate, but out of fear.

Love, to her, was a wound that never healedLove, to her, was a wound that never healed