Blinking out of his daze, Edward looked up, then around—she was gone. No longer in sight. Vanished, as though she'd been nothing but a fragment of his imagination.
"No. Fucking. Way," he whispered, pushing through the crowd, his face tightened into a frown.
From where Anita stood, she caught sight of him.
Her features contorted in puzzlement as she watched him hurtle desperately through the people.
"Oh no. Not now, Edward. I thought we talked about this," she muttered to herself, moving after him. "Why change your mind at the last minute, Edu? Why make things more complicated?"
"Baby," came a voice behind her, and a hand touched her shoulder.
Anita halted. "Sorry, Mom. Talk later—this is an emergency," she said quickly, barely glancing back at Jenevive.
But Jenevive didn't let go. Her grip tightened.
"Mom," Anita complained, eyes flashing with irritation and determination as she met her mother's gaze.
"It's important, Anita," Jenevive said, her voice calm but unyielding.
Anita glanced foward—Edward had already made it halfway through the aisle. She turned back, desperation clear in her eyes, silently pleading to be let go.
Jenevive followed her gaze briefly, then back at Anita. "Don't worry. I don't think he'll stir up any kind of scandal."
Anita didn't seem the least bit convinced.
Jenevive had no other option. "Gima adwaro ng'isi to be en kuome," she added softly.
Catching the meaning, Anita sighed. "Alright, Mom." She reluctantly followed her sparing one more glance at Edward.
---
Edward rushed up the balcony stairs, his heart pounding, his breath ragged, and his mind swirling with conflicting emotions. He didn't know what he'd do once he found Beatrice—but he knew what he wouldn't do: he wouldn't let her go. Not this time.
Nothing.
That's what he found when he reached the huge curved balcony. No one was there.
He stood in disbelief; he'd expected to run into her on the stairs, or at least at the landing. Desperate, he hurried to the opposite staircase and looked again. Still nothing.
Huffing in frustration and disbelief, he began moving through the pews, searching frantically—even checking beneath them.
Nothing... again.
He knew the odds of finding her were slim, but he couldn't stop himself from hoping.
Finally, defeated, Edward flopped lifelessly onto a pew. Leaning forward, he buried his face in his hands and began to sob—quietly, bitterly—as the pain of Hallington's death and the thought of his killer roaming free and tormenting him like that tore through him.
Suddenly, an arm wrapped around his shoulders. Without even looking, Edward knew who it was—Mdachi.
"I'm sorry, Edward. I am," Mdachi said softly. "But I'll do my best to help you get real justice for Hallington."
"I saw Beatrice," Edward blurted out suddenly, looking up at him.
"What?" Mdachi recoiled, confused.
Sitting upright now, Edward spoke fast, his words tumbling out. "I saw her here—just recently."
Mdachi blinked. "Here? At the gallery?" he asked, pointing down at the floor.
"Yes!"
After a while of taking it in, Mdachi stood, pacing as he chewed on a fingernail. A chill crept through him.
He turned back to Edward. "Ebu give me the details. The description… I mean—just tell me how it happened, okay?" He exhaled shakily, trying to steady his thoughts.
Edward nodded and took a deep breath. Mdachi sat down. Edward began explaining everything.
"That wicked woman," Mdachi muttered when Edward was done, his voice heavy with contempt. "She really is a witch."
His eyes sharpened with resolve. He placed an arm around Edward's shoulders. "Oh, Edu… so that's why you looked so ticked, huh? Don't worry—whatever game Beatrice thinks she's playing, ye ndio atabaki amechomeka. Usijali, she won't have us chasing our tails for long."
Just then, someone bumped into a pew behind them. Both boys turned instinctively.
"Mom?" Edward called out.
"I'm sorry," Miridald said softly. "I came to tell you that we should be leaving—but I just couldn't walk away when I saw you two like that… like brothers." Her eyes glimmered with both joy and sadness.
"We've always been brothers, auntma," Mdachi said firmly.
Miridald nodded, her eyes moist. "Yes… yes, you have."
She took out a handkerchief, dabbing the corners of her eyes. "Oh, now you're making me cry," she said with a teary chuckle. "Shame on you," she teased.
A sorrowful but warm smile crept across both boys' faces.
"When you're done, come down, okay?" Miridald said, turning toward the stairs.
"We're done," they said in unison.
"...Really? I didn't mean to cut you guys short-"
"Mom... it's okay. We're really done."
"Alright. Let's go."
---------------
Stepping into the house, Jesse immediately felt uncomfortable—Tini and Tola were sandwiching him in between.
He paused his game. "What gives?" he asked, glancing between the twins, irritation plain on his face.
"Well, you said you'd share the console, and we've been waiting ever since. Forever, in fact," Tini retorted, folding her arms across her chest.
Jesse rolled his eyes and exhaled. "Well, I lied, okay?" He resumed his game and started walking away.
Tola rushed ahead and blocked his path, hands on her hips. "Excuse me?" she snapped sassily.
"Ughhh, what? Don't act like lying is such a big deal. After all, I would've never given you guys my console anyway."
"Then why lie?" Tini shot back.
"Because… you wouldn't leave me alone, and I wanted you out of my hair."
At the mention of hair, Tola's gaze shifted upward to his head—his medium-length, neatly box-shaved hair.
"It's a figure of speech, dummy," Jesse clarified, clearly amused.
Tini slapped her forehead and avoided her sister's eyes.
"I knew that," Tola defended herself, trying to mask the humiliation. Truth was, she didn't know what the expression even meant.
"Give me that!" Tola suddenly lunged for the console.
Jesse tried to yank it away, but she was faster. She grabbed it.
"Let go, you Barbie-brained burglar!" Jesse retorted, gripping it tightly as they tugged back and forth. "Isn't it enough that you already destroyed my last one? You're not ruining this one too! Let go!"
Tola didn't listen. Luckily for her, she managed to pull it free from Jesse's hands.
"Na-na-nana-na! Now. I. Have. It!" she teased and bolted upstairs.
Jesse—his face like thunder—stormed after her, his chubby frame making it hard to keep up the pace.
Tini watched them go, her face blank. No way was she getting into that mess.
Nonchalantly, she made her way to the living room.
Just then, Neema entered the house, seeing Tola running upstairs with the console and Jesse desperately chasing after her. She frowned. "To—"
"Let her be, Ema," Renee stopped her with a gentle hand on her shoulder. "They're just kids. They don't know better."
Neema sighed. "Yeah… I suppose they don't."
When Jenevive caught sight of the commotion, she only shook her head with an Oh God, again? look. Another Tuesday. Jesse being like that at even the most serious occasions wasn't new. Not that she blamed him—Jesse somehow always ended up in situations like that, at the worst possible times.
She turned back and saw the trio stepping inside, chatting quietly.
"So that's what you were rushing to, looking so set off," Anita whispered. "I get it now."
"Yeah," Edward said in a low tone. "But the fact that I didn't find her… baffles me even more."
"Why? She's a witch, after all," Mdachi muttered in disgust.
"Who's a witch, and why are you guys whispering?" Renee suddenly chimed in, startling them.
They froze and turned toward her awkwardly, stiff as statues.
Neema—though not one for teenage gossip—found herself waiting curiously for their explanation.
Jenevive, standing nearby, also waited—not only to hear what they'd say, but ready to jump in if they got tongue-tied. She didn't exactly know what they were talking about, but hearing the word witch and noticing their hushed tones gave her a clue.
Anita did what she did best: improvise. "We were just filling Edward in on how some stupid-ass bit—" she stopped mid-sentence when she caught Neema's bewildered stare. Realizing why, she quickly corrected herself, "I mean, how a rather annoying girl at school—the 'witch'—did something… unacceptable, and got away with it."
"Gossip, you mean," Renee teased.
"Yes," Anita nodded quickly.
"Okay. But I didn't know men liked gossip that much," Renee said, grinning.
"We do," the two boys replied in perfect unison, wearing feigned smirks.
Renee found that a bit odd but didn't dwell on it. "Whatever," she said, heading off toward the kitchen where Neema was already gulping down a glass of water.
The trio and Jenevive all released a breath they hadn't realized they were holding.
"Now," Jenevive whispered to Anita when their eyes met.
Anita gave a small nod in return.
Jenevive followed after Renee.
"Guys," Anita said, slipping her arms over the boys' shoulders, "I have to tell you something."
"Okay," they said together.
"Let's go to your room, Edu. It's… kinda sensitive."
"...Okay."
They started upstairs, but halfway up, they stepped aside to let Jesse and Tola pass—now Jesse had the console, sprinting downstairs, with Tola furiously chasing after him.
"Oh, when I catch you, Jesse, you won't like it!" Tola hissed.
"Just leave me alone, Tola!" Jesse shouted, his voice a mix of frustration and pleading.
At that exact moment, Miridald and Jarold stepped inside and closed the door behind them.
"Hey! Kids, don't run on the stairs now," Miridald cautioned softly.
"But it's Tola who won't leave me alone, Auntma!" Jesse cried, jumping off the last step and landing on the floor.
He turned with a glare toward Tola, who had now stopped running too.
"Tolaaa," Miridald called gently.
Tola looked at her with an adorably guilty-innocent face.
"Be nice, okay?" Miridald said kindly.
Tola nodded softly and started descending the stairs.
"Good. That's my good girl," Miridald said with a warm smile, walking toward the living room, Jarold following close behind.
Once Miridald looked away, Tola's angelic face twisted back into rage toward Jesse.
Seeing that, Jesse bolted toward the lounge room, with Tola charging right after him.
Jarold caught sight of the chase and smirked.
After setting down her bag, Miridald stretched her neck and yawned. It was only afternoon, yet she already felt drained.
"I still feel like I should ask him, Heart," Jarold said suddenly.
Miridald's shoulders slumped—that topic again. They had just discussed it outside. She raised a brow.
"What if the school calls again someday and says he's truancing?" Jarold pressed. The thought of Edward skipping school unsettled him, no matter how much Miridald had explained. He just feared his son would fall into bad habits.
"You're being paranoid, Heart," Miridald said gently, cupping his face in her hands. "I already told you—he must've missed school on Wednesday because he'd just found out about Hallington the day before—"
Jarold scoffed. "Yeah, but what kind of well-in-the-head police officer discloses such horrifying details of a murder case to their niece? See what that caused? That officer needs to—"
Miridald cut him off. "That's not important right now, Heart. What's important is that we know why Edward skipped school, okay?"
"Okay," Jarold said after a brief pause.
"And the school only called because I forgot to tell them he wouldn't be in yesterday or today. Okay?"
He sighed. "Okay."
"Good." She smiled softly, gave his cheek a light pat, and walked toward the kitchen.
Once she was gone, Jarold sat on the couch.
He noticed Tini watching him from across the room.
Feeling awkward, he decided to at least greet her. "You've really grown, Tola," he said, a brittle smile forming on his handsome face.
"It's Tini, Uncle," she corrected politely—but boldly.
Jarold mentally slapped his forehead. "Of course. Tola was the one chasing Jesse around," he thought. He shook his head. "How embarrassing."
"No need to feel embarrassed, Uncle. It happens more often than you think." She raised the remote, turned off the TV, and began walking toward him.
"No, no, no," Jarold said quickly, waving his hands. "I don't want the remote. You can keep watching your cartoon, princess."
"Thanks for the compliment, Uncle—but about the remote, I wasn't bringing it to you." She set it neatly on a shelf and sat beside him.
Jarold frowned, confused. Kids rarely ever sat comfortably beside him. They usually found him intimidating.
"I'd like for you to tell me about being a doctor, Uncle," she said, looking up at him with a warm smile.
Jarold raised a brow, pleasantly surprised. Apart from Edward, Miridald, and his sister, no one close to him had ever asked such a thing.
"I've developed an interest in the career, Uncle. Maybe one day I'll grow up to be a doctor. That's why I'd like you to tell me about it."
Jarold's expression softened, and a proud smile spread across his face.