Chapter 17 The Quiet Storm

• The air in the Tunde household was heavier than usual. A creeping silence lingered over the walls, thick with unspoken words and emotional tension. Zara’s door remained firmly shut, not a creak, not a whisper, not even the sound of her footsteps in the hallway.
• Inside her room, Zara lay curled beneath her duvet, hugging a throw pillow like it was a shield from the world. Her curtains were drawn shut, dimming the light from the outside world she didn’t want to see. She hadn’t stepped out since the confrontation with her father. Her mini-fridge was her only companion—snacks and bottled water kept her alive. Emotionally, though, she was drained.
• From outside her door, her mother knocked gently for the third time that day. “Zara, sweetheart, please eat something proper. I made your favourite—jollof rice with dodo and grilled chicken.”