Chapter 1: The One Who Left
378 Words
The sky was gray the morning they buried Margaret George. Rain threatened the edges of the horizon but never came, as if the heavens were holding their breath.
Amelia stood still at the edge of her mother’s grave, a scarf wrapped tightly around her head. Her eyes, dry but heavy, were locked on the soil piled neatly beside the open ground. The scent of dust and lilies hung thick in the air. But none of it reached her. She was somewhere far off, trapped between the weight of grief and the ghost of the girl she used to be.
Voices murmured behind her. Some familiar, others less so. All of them carried the same quiet tension. She was the daughter who left. The one who did not return until the end. The one who missed the slow goodbyes.
Then she saw him.
Collins Adeyemi stood near the old mango tree, a few paces from the mourners. His hands were clasped in front of him. His face unreadable. His presence, however, crashed into her like waves against weakened stone. Her stomach tightened. Her chest pulsed. And in that instant, ten years folded into nothing.
She turned away before their eyes could meet.
After the final prayers and solemn handshakes, Amelia moved quickly. She did not wait for condolences. She slipped through the gathering, barely hearing her name called as she reached the path leading to the house.
But then she heard his voice.
"Amelia."
She froze. The sound of it curled under her skin. Slowly, she turned.
Collins had followed her. He stood a few feet away, his shoulders tense, like he was bracing for impact.
"You should not have come," she said.
"It is her funeral. I came to pay my respects."
Her eyes narrowed. "You came to remind me what leaving looks like."
The words cracked between them. He flinched but said nothing.
She took a step back. "I buried my mother today. I do not have space for ghosts."
Collins nodded slowly. His eyes darkened, heavy with something that looked like regret.
"I just wanted to say I am sorry. For everything."
Amelia stared at him, waiting for her anger to rise. But there was only silence.
She turned and walked away.
He did not follow.
- Writer
