The room felt too quiet, too confined, as though the walls were slowly closing in on me. I placed the receipts on the table, my fingers trembling as I looked at Otieno.
“I trusted you,” I whispered, my voice breaking under the weight of everything I had been holding inside.
He did not touch the papers. He only stared at them, as if silence could erase the truth printed on them.
Just weeks earlier, I had buried my daughter, Wanjiru, and now I was facing another kind of loss—one that cut even deeper. Get The Full Story Here