As the minutes ticked by, Yetunde had to admit that the control of the situation was no longer in her hands.. Since Olumide saw Romola at the wedding, everything had been a little off. Romola's declaration about ownership of Olumide's heart Yetunde refused to believe it.

Olumide belonged to her before Romola came into the picture and would always be hers. She could not let Romola win. She and Olumide were engaged and with Ajoke's support, Olumide would be married to her at the end of the month.

He was the bone of contention and he was the trophy.

"Where are you going?" Her mother tried to pull her back but she shook her mother's hand off. "Leave me. I'm going to talk to her."

"And what will you say to her that we haven't tried?"

There was so much at stake. Maybe even more than Modupe's life. Did Romola know the truth? In one of her drunken spurs, could she have told Romola the truth about Modupe's conception? And even if she had, why would Romola hold that against her? She had done what she felt was right for her and her daughter at that point.

Romola, her best friend who had once worshipped her, could still be affectionate or sympathetic towards her. They weren't friends for nothing.

"Just let me do what I have to do." Yetunde turned to Romola. "Romy, pleas—"

Romola hissed at her, fluttering those thick lashes that she had always been envious of. The lashes. The body. Even in those blood stained clothes and with puffy eyes, Romola still looked better than her.

Yetunde walked to the part of the couch where Ayo sat, touching Ayo's shoulder gently even though she wished to snap Ayo's shoulder if she could fit the thickness of Ayo's flesh into her palm. This idiot had merely wasted time. Time she could've used to convince Romola before Romola requested for a dead man.

Modupe's father was dead to her. He was dead to everyone. He had fled with one of her father's cars, her mother's jewellery and her innocence. And as dead as he was, the secret of his identity was to remain that way.

"Please, go somewhere else." Yetunde took Ayo's place, squeezing into the chair beside Romola but Romola inched towards the other edge of the chair.

"Romola, please listen to me." She sniffed loudly, fighting the attempts of her sobs to hijack her words as she lowered her voice, "I know you are angry with me but don't do this. Don't let the devil use—"

"What devil? Use who?" Romola recoiled so quickly from her that she almost fell face first into the seat. The cause of her pain stared down at her with a contorted look. "The way he used you to ruin my life?"

"I didn't ruin your life." Yetunde screamed, then whispered. "I'm sorry. You have to understand why I did what I did but Modupe is my only child."

Romola shrugged. "And Sunbo was the only person in my family that really loved me. So what?"

"Think of how you feel? Do you want me to feel that way too? Isn't it horrible?"

"Horror is watching your sister die in your hands knowing that you couldn't do enough to save her. Horror is knowing that your father will harm you but not having enough resources to escape the abuse. Horror is turning up everywhere with 1000% effort only to be looked down on because of one silly mistake. Horror, Yetunde, I know it. Horror is believing that you were truly my friend."

Yetunde shook her head. If she could not reach Romola as her friend, she had to try a new tactic.

Olumid's mother came to her rescue, looking down at Romola with a sneer. "Oh, shut up. Yetunde had been nothing but a good friend to my son, at least if not to you. Without Yetunde, we would never have found your excuse of a mother. No one regards your sister's death as insignificant but you need to exercise grace. Don't you know how to forgive? "

Yetunde's eyes widened. Of course, her future mother-in-law didn't know the whole truth, only the convoluted paths that she had created. With Heritage's blood being tested, she could not afford a chance where there would be no blood for Modupe. Not that she doubted that Heritage's blood would do the needful.

"Ma, no. Please, let me talk to her." Yetunde knelt at Romola's feet, clasping her hands. "Romola, I'm willing to do anything."

"You don't have to do anything. I've given you the only option that will work for me unless you can bring my sister back to life."

"No. There has to be something I can do. There has to be something you want." Yetunde said.

"I want nothing that I haven't asked for." Romola said.

"I didn't ruin your life, Romola and you know it. It's all your fault. If you had been honest from the start—"

"Liar!" Romola yelled.

There was no muting of Romola's voice. Now, Yetunde had more fear in her than she did when Romola had snuck after her to the drug fest. And even worse, Romola was no longer quiet, or gentle or silent.

It was clear now, this was a game of a pound for a pound and she had played all of her cards, wild, loose, fast and heavy. Romola only had one card but it was one that could topple all the towers she had built if she didn't handle things well. But when had she ever failed when it came to Romola?

"If it's about that, then I'm sorry." Yetunde rose. "I'm sorry for lying about you."

Romola rose a brow.

"Okay, I'm also sorry for lying to your mother and collecting money from her. I'll pay you back the money."

"Is that all?"

Yetunde's mouth hung open. "I... I... I don't understand?"

"Is that all?" Romola repeated, yelling. "You don't want to help yourself? Do you want me to expose you?"

"Expose me?" Yetunde twisted her fingers. She whispered, "Ha, Romola. I beg you—"

"Don't beg. Just tell the truth about Modupe's father. That you—"

The rest of Romola's words were lost when a slap landed on her face.

Yetunde stared, mouth agape, as her mother raised another hand. She stood in front of her mother and held the woman's hand. Romola did not need to be angered more and if Olumide found out about this, he would surely have her head.

"Mummy, please. I'm getting through to her."

"Through to what? She's telling lies and wanting to drag you into them. She's shameless. Why are you begging her?"

"Mummy, we just need one pint from her. We'll take two from Modupe's father."

"I don't even know which kind of wahala this is. That we have to rely on these two for blood." Her mother said.

Romola did not say a word. She only snapped her fingers in front of Yetunde's mother before she resumed her seat.

Her mother made to move towards Romola with another slap but Yetunde stood in front of her. "Mummy, please, we need her."

"Need her for what? Shebi, she has already said she would donate. Mannerless idiot. If she dares snap at me again, I'll break her fingers."

"Mummy, e don do. She don talk say she go donate. All this thing wey una dey do go just stress am unnecessarily." Ayo added.

Yetunde turned back to Romola. "What are you really trying to achieve?"

Romola did not say a word. Only sucked in the sides of her cheeks and cradled the part of her face where she had been hit.

"If it's about Modupe's father, I have nothing to hide. Nothing to be ashamed of. He did this to me and as much as I hate him, I love Modupe with all of my life."

Romola's words were a whisper that was meant for only her ears. "We'll see how much you love Modupe."

Yetunde shrank away from Romola. It was all clear now and it was exactly as she had suspected. Romola knew about Heritage and was determined to ruin her life.

Well, she would rather die than let that happen. She had not come this far with all her tricks to lose to this stupid girl. Romola was just learning. She was a master at this game.

As she walked towards the opposite wall, she let her tears and sobs fill the room and embraced the hug of her father.

"Daddy, I don't know what to do again. This girl is wicked. She just hates me because of Olumide. And she doesn't want to leave us alone."

The words were seeds planted in her father's head. Those seeds would sprout and lead Romola to a similar fate as Heritage when all this was over. She had a seed for everyone in this room.

When they tested Heritage's blood, they wouldn't find something out of the ordinary. She had gone through a lot of trouble to ensure that when she accused Heritage, it would not come back to bite her and she was willing to keep up the charade.

And if by some chance Heritage's blood was not good enough, she could always fall back to a claim she had not used when he was first arrested— that she had been harassed by a group of boys but Heritage had been the only one she recognised. And that she had not spoken about it then because she was ashamed.

As for Olumide, when he saw that his precious Romola had nothing to offer but pain and an extension of Modupe's problem, he would have nothing to do with Romola and with his guilt in this situation, she would have him to herself.

Forever hers.

Alone.