Invisible Scars

The Past Catches Up

Nadira's meeting with the client went smoothly, but her mind kept wandering back to her father's visit. She couldn't shake off the feeling that he was up to something, that he was hiding something behind his charming smile.

As she walked back to her office, her phone buzzed with a message from Ifeoma. "Hey, sis, just checking in. How's it going?"

Nadira smiled, feeling a surge of love for her sister. Ifeoma was always the one person she could count on to understand her. "It's going," she replied, typing out a quick message. "Dad showed up at the apartment this morning."

There was a pause, and then Ifeoma's response came through. "What did he want?"

Nadira sighed, wondering the same thing. "Just being his usual self," she replied. "But I'm fine, don't worry about it."

Ifeoma's response was immediate. "You better be careful, Nadira. You know how he is."

Nadira's heart skipped a beat. What did Ifeoma know? She was always so cryptic, so guarded. "What do you mean?" Nadira asked, her curiosity piqued.

But Ifeoma's response was vague. "Just be careful, okay?"

Nadira's mind was racing as she arrived at her office. She couldn't focus on work, couldn't shake off the feeling that something was off. She decided to take a walk, clear her head.

As she walked, she found herself in front of her family's old house, the one she grew up in. It was a beautiful old mansion, with a sprawling garden and a sense of history. But it was also a place of secrets, of whispers and silences.

Nadira's mother, Aunty Uju, answered the door, a look of surprise on her face. "Nadira, what are you doing here?"

Nadira felt a pang of guilt, realizing she hadn't visited in a while. "Just thought I'd drop by," she said, feeling a little awkward.

Aunty Uju's eyes searched her face, and for a moment, Nadira felt like she was looking right through her. "Come in, dear," she said finally, stepping aside.

As Nadira entered the house, she was hit with a wave of memories. The smell of cooking, the sound of laughter, the feel of her mother's warm embrace. But there were darker memories too, memories of fights and silences, of secrets and lies.

Aunty Uju led her to the living room, where a photo album lay open on the coffee table. Nadira's heart skipped a beat as she saw the familiar handwriting on the pages, the photos of her childhood, of her family.

Aunty Uju sat down beside her, her eyes sad. "I was just looking at these photos," she said, her voice soft. "I was thinking about the past, about the things we used to do as a family."

Nadira felt a lump form in her throat. She knew what her mother was trying to do, but she wasn't ready to talk about the past, not yet.

Just then, the doorbell rang, breaking the tension. Aunty Uju got up to answer it, leaving Nadira alone with her thoughts.

As she sat there, staring at the photo album, Nadira realized that she wasn't the only one with secrets. Her family was hiding things, things that could change everything.

And she was determined to uncover the truth.