Silence louder than noise
1077 Words
Episode five
Narrator's pov
SOMEWHERE IN CENTRAL LAGOS
“How I’ve missed this place.”
A woman in her early thirties stepped out of a sleek black car, removing her sunglasses slowly as she stared at the grand mansion before her. The building stood tall and proud, freshly painted in cream with gold linings tracing its edges.
A row of maids stood neatly at the gate.
“Good morning, Miss.”
“Good morning, Miss.”
“Good morning, Miss.”
They bowed in unison.
She walked past them confidently, almost regally.
Well… she did own the place, in a way.
“My love!”
A woman in her early sixties hurried down the staircase, arms wide open.
“Rosie baby! I’ve missed you so much. Why are you only coming back now?”
Rosalyn smiled faintly. “Mom, you know how hectic it is being a star.”
“Oh, my Rosalyn baby, I know, I know.” Her mother held her face tenderly. “Come inside. Sit. Tell the chef to prepare the best dishes. My daughter is home! She needs the best nourishment. Am I clear?”
“Yes, ma’am,” the maids chorused.
“Mother, you didn’t have to stress yourself.”
“You know how your father is,” her mother sighed.
Rosalyn’s smile faded. “He’s not back yet?”
“No.”
“Is he still angry with me?”
Her mother hesitated. “You did run away.”
“I couldn’t marry him at that time,” Rosalyn said firmly. “I had to build my career. Why was everyone forcing marriage on me so young? At least now I’ve seen the world. I can marry him now if I want.”
Her mother’s expression stiffened. “You heard he was injured.”
Rosalyn frowned. “Must I marry him just because his family is wealthy? He’s a soldier. That’s practically signing up to be a widow. I heard he was shot near the heart. What if he dies? I’d be widowed at thirty-two.”
“You always gave him hope,” her mother said quietly. “Why did you run away?”
“I already told you — I had to secure my career.”
“And now you’re back because your career is shaking.”
Rosalyn stood abruptly.
“Those new upcoming artists—” Rosalyn started. her mother interrupted. “People are saying your success was because I pulled strings.”
Rosalyn scoffed. “I worked hard. Yes, I had Father’s money. But I worked.”
She stomped toward her room angrily.
Her mother sighed heavily. “I’ve spoiled this girl too much.”
“Oh, now you admit it.”
An older man with a full head of grey hair descended the staircase, shaking his head.
“Look at how she just walked off. She has no respect anymore. You run around for her like an assistant.”
“I am not her assistant,” his wife protested. “I’m helping my daughter.”
“And look where that help has landed her,” he replied sharply. “She almost got deported. Do you know how much money I spent cleaning up her mess in Canada? Police stations. Lawyers. Bail.”
He shook his head.
“And now she’s back here, blaming other people.”
“Don’t start,” his wife muttered.
“I told her to stay here and build her career slowly. Look at Stella’s daughter. Stella never pulled strings for her child. She raised her strictly. That girl studied medicine and surgery, graduated, and still built her own name in entertainment — on her own merit.”
His voice hardened.
“While our daughter was jumping from one scandal to another, that girl was studying. She even skipped classes because of her intelligence. Your daughter was three years older and still couldn’t match her discipline.”
He grabbed his briefcase.
“I’m going to the office. Either put sense into her head, or don’t. But when we die and she squanders our fortune, don’t blame me.”
He left.
His wife held her head in distress.
“My child is brilliant too,” she whispered. “Why can’t her future shine the same way? Why is it always Stella’s daughter?”
Meanwhile…
Leslie woke up with tears on her cheeks.
It was just a dream.
She sat up slowly.
She washed her face, dressed up, and stepped out of her room.
Her mother’s voice echoed from downstairs.
“Leslie! Come and eat! You’ve been in that room for a week!”
Leslie walked down the stairs slowly, her eyes empty.
“Mommy, I’m not eating.”
Her mother frowned. “What is it?”
“That land Grandma left me. I want to see it. I want to survey it.”
Her mother’s expression changed. “Oh? Now you’re serious?”
“I want to build something.”
“What?”
“An entertainment company. A large one. Elegant. Spacious.”
Her mother nodded slowly. “The land is still there. I didn’t sell it. Your grandmother left it to you in her will. I’ll give you the documents.”
“Thank you.”
Just then, a young woman standing in the parlour adjusted her posture.
“Good morning, ma’am,” she said in a soft British accent.
“Oh, Kennedy, come inside,” Leslie’s mother said. “Have breakfast.”
“Yes, ma’am. Mrs. Innocent has already briefed us. We’ve contacted the best engineers and architects in the state.”
Leslie shook her head. “No. I have someone in mind.”
“Who?”
“Mirabelle.”
She reached for her phone.
“Hello?”
A familiar voice answered.
“Ah, Leslie. It’s been so long.”
“It has,” Leslie replied. “How many years? Twelve?”
“Something like that. You don’t call unless it’s business. What do you need?”
“I have land. I want to build an entertainment company. Big. Elegant. Classy.”
Mirabelle laughed softly. “Say no more. We’ll handle it.”
In the background, a male voice asked, “Who is that?”
“It’s Leslie,” Mirabelle replied.
A pause.
Then—
“Give me the phone.”
Leslie’s fingers tightened slightly.
“Leslie… hi.”
That voice.
The voice that once broke her heart.
Without hesitation—
She cut the call.
She wasn’t ready to hear him.
Not yet.
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