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Chapter 39: Warmth behind the door

  Approaching the house, they were welcomed by the smell of alloco. The sweet scent of fried plantain and the perfume of grilled fish tickling their noses was enough to make Zokou and Kazeem’s stomachs growl. Today’s events would have made anybody tired and starving, so at this point even Zokou was walking quicker.

  Entering the house, the chill of the night was replaced by warmth and coziness. They quickly looked to their right toward the kitchen. There was Yassena, cooking and humming a melody familiar to the family, though only she knew the lyrics. Although her dark mane, threaded with a few golden strands, made it hard to see her expression, the tone of her voice was enough to imagine the warm smile on her face. She was wearing a tank top and a simple wrapper. These everyday clothes had a hard time hiding her beautiful curves. Looking at this scene made it easier to ignore her proficiency and the speed with which she handled the ingredients.

  Hearing the door open and knowing who it was, Yassena didn’t look back but instead yelled:

  “Go wash yourselves.”

  But the father and son didn’t move. Kazeem looked at Zokou with pleading eyes. He whispered:

  “Please, paa.”

  “You know your mom… let’s just do what she said.”

  “Pleaaaaase,” Kazeem responded. The hunger was hitting harder than usual, and both of his stomachs were growling nonstop.

  A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

  Seeing his son suffering, Zokou let out a long sigh. Gathering his courage, he said:

  “Humm… honey?”

  “Hm?”

  “Hum… can we eat really quick and go wash up after?”

  “…”

  After a long moment of silence, she turned back and said,

  “Hmmm well alright, come sit dow—OH HELL NO! WHY ARE YOU GUYS SO DIRTY?”

  Kazeem made a weird smile. He had been blown away until he hit a tree, then greeted by a cloud of dirt before even opening his eyes. However, Zokou was perplexed. Until earlier, his tank top didn’t have any stains, but now when he looked at it… he had a humanoid mark on it. He then remembered when he hugged his son while trying to console him.

  This little piece shi— he thought as he suddenly glared at Kazeem, who conveniently decided to look away at the same time.

  Yassena continued:

  “You guys are too dirty! Go wash up! And I am not washing those clothes!”

  “…”

  After throwing another stare at Kazeem, Zokou went into his room to clean up. With a defeated smile, Kazeem headed outside toward the exterior wash area.

  Before he could go, his mother stopped him.

  “Baby!”

  Usually, he would argue a little, claiming he was too old to be called that, but the concern in his mother’s eyes stopped him in his tracks.

  “Are you okay?” she asked.

  It was something she used to ask from time to time. But this time was different; the question carried more weight, and the answer expected carried even more — and Kazeem knew it.

  All the emotions he faced today resurfaced: the suffocation brought by the loops, the frustration with Old Meza, the constant feeling of powerlessness, and the resolutions he now carried.

  He finally said with a light smile,

  “Yeah… I’m fine. Everything is okay.”

  And even if it’s not? Well, I will make it be. he thought.

  Seeing her son smile, she smiled in return, illuminating the whole house.

  “Alright, come eat quickly before your dad catches you,” she said while chuckling.

  “Maa, you’re the best,” he said, almost tearing up.

  “Shhhh… don’t let him hear you.”

  Closing thought: Even if tomorrow tried to break him again, tonight still belonged to him.”

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