Chapter 15: The Roots That Bleed (Continued)
The air was thick with tension as Ezinne stood at the doorstep of her childhood home, her hands trembling despite the determination that held her spine straight. The familiar scent of the house hit her instantly, a blend of old wood, forgotten memories, and the faint traces of the past she had long since buried. She hadn't stepped foot in this place in years. In all the time she had spent away, her mother's home had been the last place she would have willingly returned to. But now, as the days had gone by, she realized that there was no escaping the truth buried in her roots. Her mother had come to her, knocking on her door, pleading with her to visit. The words she had spoken, cryptic and desperate, had pierced Ezinne's heart more than she cared to admit. The woman who had once treated her as a burden, who had ignored her cries and left her to fend for herself, now seemed broken, like someone who had realized the weight of what she had done. But Ezinne knew better than to trust those words. A lifetime of cruelty wasn't erased by a few sentences of remorse. And yet..… here she was. As the door creaked open, Ezinne was greeted not by the familiar coldness of her mother's stare, but by something else, something she hadn't seen in years. Vulnerability. Her mother stood in the doorway, her hands clasped tightly in front of her, her expression faltering. "Ezinne," she said quietly, almost as though testing the air for the right words. "Come in. Please." Ezinne stood frozen for a moment, her heart pounding in her chest. She could hear Adaora's voice inside, muffled but unmistakable, filled with that same disdain she'd known her whole life. Chinedu was probably there, too, though she hadn't heard his voice yet. He had always been the quieter one of the two, but his presence had always carried a certain weight. Taking a deep breath, Ezinne stepped into the house, her shoes clicking against the wooden floor with each measured step. The walls hadn't changed, though there were new pictures now, pictures of her siblings, the ones who had always been favored. Ezinne's heart twisted at the sight of the happy family portraits that decorated the walls. Her place in this world had never been here. She followed her mother into the living room, where Adaora and Chinedu sat. Adaora's eyes flicked toward her, an unreadable expression on her face. She didn't even bother to stand or offer any kind of greeting. She simply watched Ezinne with that same distant gaze that had always marked their interactions. "You're here," Adaora said, her voice laced with a mix of surprise and irritation, as though Ezinne's very presence was an inconvenience. Ezinne's gaze hardened. She was no longer the same woman who would cower in the face of her sister's coldness. She had seen too much, fought too hard, and survived too long to let Adaora's disdain cut her. She didn't need anyone's approval anymore. Chinedu, ever the silent observer, merely glanced up from the newspaper he was reading before looking back down again, his indifference palpable. "Why did you want me to come?" Ezinne finally asked, her voice steady. "What is it that you want from me?" Her mother shifted uncomfortably, her eyes welling with tears. "Ezinne, I..." Before she could finish, Adaora cut in. "Mother, stop. You're only making this worse. She's not going to forgive you for everything you've done." Ezinne felt a surge of anger rising in her chest. "Adaora, I'm not here for your approval," she said sharply. "I didn't come for you or for anyone else. I came because I need to understand. I need to know why..… why you did what you did." Her mother lowered her gaze, as though ashamed. But Adaora's voice rang out again, louder now, filled with that same coldness. "You're still angry about all that, aren't you?" Adaora sneered. "After everything we've been through, you still can't let it go? Mother tried, Ezinne. She did what she thought was best for all of us. But you were always different. You couldn't see that." Ezinne's breath hitched in her throat, her hands curling into fists at her sides. "You think I was different?" she asked, her voice trembling with emotion. "You think I didn't try? I tried for years to earn your love, your acceptance. But you…. you were never there for me. You never once asked what I needed." Adaora's eyes flickered with irritation, but there was no apology in them. "You were always the problem, Ezinne. Always causing trouble, always being difficult." The words stung, but Ezinne refused to let them break her. She had long since learned to block out their hurtful remarks. But this was different. She was different now. "You don't get it, Adaora," Ezinne said, her voice quiet but firm. "You and Mother never saw me. You never looked past what you wanted me to be. You treated me like I was a mistake, like I was someone to be ashamed of. And for years, I believed it. I thought I was the problem." Her mother, still standing by the door, looked like she wanted to speak, but she didn't. Adaora crossed her arms, the look on her face a mix of scorn and disbelief. "You're still acting like the victim, Ezinne," Adaora muttered. "Get over it. We've all moved on." But Ezinne wasn't done. She took a step closer to her sister, her eyes locked onto Adaora's. "You moved on by burying everything, Adaora. You moved on by pretending it didn't matter. But it did. It still does. And I won't let you or anyone else tell me that it doesn't." For a moment, there was silence. The weight of Ezinne's words hung in the air. Even Chinedu looked up from his paper, his eyes flickering with something that might have been regret. But Adaora? No. She just stared, unblinking. "You've always been a disappointment," Adaora finally spat, her voice cold as ice. "A constant reminder of everything we tried to forget." The words sliced through Ezinne's chest, but she held her ground. She would not be broken by Adaora's cruelty anymore. "You don't get to decide that anymore, Adaora," she said, her voice steady, unwavering. "I'm done being your disappointment. I'm done letting you define who I am." There was a long pause. Her mother's silence weighed heavily in the room. Chinedu, as usual, didn't speak. But Adaora…. Adaora's expression flickered for just a moment. There was a brief flicker of doubt in her eyes, but it was gone before Ezinne could grasp it. "I don't need your forgiveness, Adaora," Ezinne said softly, her heart pounding in her chest. "But I'll never let you define me again." With that, Ezinne turned and walked away, leaving behind the family that had never truly seen her, never truly cared. But she was stronger now. She had a family of her own, people who loved her, who saw her for who she truly was. And she was done looking back.