Chapter 15 Final Thought

• Zara hadn’t come out of her room in two whole days.
• The once-vibrant hum of the Tunde household had dulled into an eerie silence. Plates clinked, conversations happened, doors opened and closed—but never hers. Her bedroom door remained shut, her curtains drawn, and not even her footsteps echoed through the halls. Only the faint crunch of snacks and the occasional shuffle of movement from inside told the family she was still in there, existing.
• Mrs. Tunde had tried everything—knocking, calling softly, even bribing her with fresh jollof—but her daughter gave no response. The only thing Zara wanted was space. Space to grieve the little choices she once believed were hers. Space to sit with the weight of being caged.