•Chapter 19•

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Can you hear them? The voices inside my head are screaming for help, and I find myself yelling back, pleading for silence. It's beginning to feel like madness might be creeping in.

Bianca's visit shattered the fragile courage I had been piecing together against the world.

"No judge in Ghana will grant you custody of your son if I find him first—and trust me, I will."

How had she even discovered my son's existence?

Caught between the devil and the deep sea, I found myself with no choice but to accept her proposal. Bianca had not only defeated me; she had ensnared me, exerting control over my very existence. To her, this was merely a game—and she was clearly playing to win.

Layla visited yesterday, only to tell me they're refusing to grant me bail. This morning, one of my cellmates shared her story; she's been languishing here for two years without a trial or even a hearing. The fear of being forgotten in this place haunts me relentlessly.

"Trust me, Serwaa, I didn't want it to come to this. But you backed me into a corner when you decided to fight for the only person I've ever loved."

Bianca's admission was stark, a veiled boast about how she had planted that ring in my purse.

She was determined to ruin me, and without evidence, who would believe my side of the story? It was heartbreaking that even the man who had known me all my life, who had witnessed every step of my upbringing, couldn't trust in my innocence.

Kofi didn't need to say anything; I could see it all in his eyes. When the policeman shoved me into the car, Kofi just held her, comforting her instead of me. He watched as they took me away, and he hasn't even come to see me.

What he did next says it all. He must have told her everything about us, about our son. That's the only way Bianca could have known—Kofi must have confided in her, possibly pleading for her forgiveness, all the while denying his feelings for me. But what baffles me most is that I never told Kofi our son was still alive. How did Bianca find out?

"Choose, Serwaa. It's all up to you now. Your son and your freedom, or... well, you know the alternative. What will it be?"

"Shut up, Bianca," I whispered.

I had always felt overshadowed by her, but now my fear had deepened. Layla was acting strangely, and it felt like all hope was slipping away.

"I don't trust you. My son is dead!" I yelled, desperate to attract the wardens' attention, hoping they would intervene and drag me away from this confrontation. But they ignored me, as if Bianca had bewitched them. They were quick to admonish my visitors if they lingered too long, swift to deny me even a minute extra of their company, yet they allowed Bianca to linger and manipulate as she pleased.

At this point, the bleak confines of my cell seemed far preferable to enduring another moment of her taunts.

Bianca simply shook her head and giggled, chilling my blood. "I know where your son is, Serwaa. I'm giving you until tomorrow to decide. You know what I'm capable of by now."

Her threats continued, each word tightening the noose of dread around me. Just one day to make a decision. Yet, what more did I have to lose? My dignity and will to live were already teetering on the edge. If sacrificing them meant holding my little boy again, perhaps it was a price I was prepared to pay

I aspired to be a better person, yet I felt barely human. My body had wasted away, my collarbone carving chains around my neck. It was as if the very flesh had been stripped from my bones.

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