CHAPTER 13
Morning settled like a curse over the house. The burial drums had slowed, but the compound was still alive with restless voices. Men’s arguments about property mixed with women’s whispers about me. Every time I walked past, their eyes dragged over my body. Some pitied. Some mocked. Some judged.
I didn’t flinch. I wouldn’t give them the satisfaction.
Chief Nwokobia’s summons came sharp, his voice slicing through the noise. “Uche Monwon! Come here!”
I walked into the parlor slowly, refusing to bow my head. The air inside was heavier than outside. Four elders sat like gods on carved wooden chairs, their wrappers folded neatly, their faces carved in stone. Palm wine gourds rested by their feet, untouched.
My uncle sat among them, legs spread wide, looking comfortable—too comfor
