Chapter Eleven - When Trust Cracks
by @khalie436
For the first time in a long while, Tiara had begun to believe that perhaps her life was not completely beyond repair.
The thought was still fragile.
She did not hold it too tightly, afraid that life might snatch it away the moment she became comfortable.
But things had changed.
She had managed to buy some of the medications Nurse Amaka had prescribed. Not all of them, but enough to make her feel that she was finally doing something for herself and the baby.
Her job at the supermarket was exhausting. By the time she returned home each evening, her body often ached, and there were days when all she wanted was to lie down and forget that the next day would demand the same strength from her again.
Still, she was earning.
And earning, even when the amount seemed painfully small, gave her a sense of independence she had not felt since leaving home.
She had also begun preparing for the baby.
Whenever she had a little money left after settling the things she needed, she bought something.
Nothing extravagant.
A pair of socks.
A tiny shirt.
A little cap.
Once, she stood in front of a row of baby clothes for so long that the woman selling them finally asked whether she intended to buy anything or merely admire the entire shop.
Tiara had laughed and bought the cheapest dress she could find.
It was now one of her favourite things.
That afternoon, she sat on the edge of her bed with the little clothes spread around her.
The room was quiet except for the faint sounds drifting in from outside—the occasional horn, the murmur of people passing, the clatter of something being dragged across the ground.
Tiara picked up the tiny dress.
It looked almost absurdly small in her hands.
She held it against herself and imagined a little body inside it.
Her daughter.
The scan had already revealed that she was having a girl.
A daughter.
The thought still felt strange sometimes.
Beautiful.
Frightening.
Too real.
"A little princess," she whispered.
The words left her lips with a smile she didn't notice forming.
She imagined tiny fingers curling around hers. She imagined a small voice calling her mother. She imagined herself learning things she had never been taught.
She knew she was young.
She knew she had made mistakes.
She knew motherhood was not going to magically erase everything that had gone wrong.
But when she looked at the little dress in her hands, she allowed herself one selfish moment of hope.
She folded it carefully and placed it beside the other clothes.
Then—
"Tiara!"
She startled.
The tiny dress slipped from her fingers.
"Tiara!"
The second call was sharper.
Tiara's chest tightened.
"Ma?"
No answer came.
She quickly stood and stepped outside.
Mama Bose was standing near the entrance to the shop.
Something was wrong.
The woman who usually spoke with a mixture of impatience and humour now stood rigidly, her lips pressed into a thin line. Her eyes were fixed on Tiara with an intensity that made the air between them suddenly feel heavier.
"Come inside."
Tiara stopped.
"Ma, what happened?"
"I said come inside."
There was something in her voice that made Tiara obey without another question.
She followed Mama Bose into the room.
Mama Bose shut the door behind them.
For a moment, she said nothing.
Then she turned.
"I'm looking for thirty thousand naira."
Tiara blinked.
"Thirty thousand?"
"Yes."
Mama Bose's fingers tightened around the edge of her wrapper.
"I kept the money inside my wardrobe this morning. I was going to use it for something. I checked for it just now, and it's gone."
Tiara frowned.
"Maybe you kept it somewhere else, ma."
Mama Bose's eyes narrowed.
"I know where I kept my money."
Tiara immediately fell silent.
Mama Bose walked toward the wardrobe.
"I checked twice."
She opened it and moved a few clothes aside as though the missing money might suddenly appear out of embarrassment.
"It isn't here."
She shut the door.
"I asked my children."
Tiara watched her carefully.
"They said they didn't touch it."
Mama Bose's voice had become quieter now.
Too quiet.
"And they weren't even around when I kept it."
Tiara felt a knot forming in her chest.
Mama Bose turned toward her.
"You're the only person I told about where I kept the money."
For a second, Tiara simply stared at her.
Then comprehension struck.
Her eyes widened.
"Ma…"
"I didn't say you took it."
But the accusation was already hanging between them.
Tiara swallowed.
"I didn't take your money."
Mama Bose folded her arms.
"I hope so."
"Ma, I swear I didn't touch it."
Mama Bose stared at her.
Tiara could see the suspicion in her face, and something inside her began to burn.
Not because Mama Bose had asked.
Because she had already decided what the answer might be.
"After everything I've done for you?" Mama Bose asked.
Tiara's brows drew together.
"What does that mean?"
"I gave you a place to stay when you had nowhere to go."
"I know."
"I fed you."
"I know, ma."
"I allowed you to stay here without knowing anything about you."
Tiara's jaw tightened.
"And I'm grateful."
"Are you?"
The question landed like a slap.
Tiara's eyes flickered.
"Yes."
"Then why is my money missing?"
"I don't know!"
The words came out louder than Tiara intended.
Silence followed.
Mama Bose stared at her.
Tiara immediately regretted raising her voice, but the words had escaped before she could stop them.
"I'm sorry," she said, breathing heavily. "But I didn't take it."
Mama Bose shook her head.
"I am not a rich woman, Tiara."
"I know."
"You think because I have a shop and I feed people here, money grows on my trees?"
Tiara said nothing.
Mama Bose's voice trembled with frustration.
"I work for everything I have. Sometimes business is good. Sometimes it isn't. When the market moves quickly, I can make something. When it doesn't, I count every naira before spending it."
She pointed toward the wardrobe.
"That thirty thousand was not the kind of money I could afford to lose."
Tiara's throat tightened.
"Then believe me when I say I didn't take it."
Mama Bose looked at her for several seconds.
But suspicion had already dug its heels in.
"You're the only person outside this family who knew."
Tiara's eyes began to sting.
"That doesn't mean I stole it."
Mama Bose scoffed.
"Then where is it?"
"I don't know!"
Her voice cracked.
"I don't know where your money is!"
Mama Bose's expression hardened.
"And you expect me to believe that?"
Tiara stared at her in disbelief.
For a moment, she wanted to shout.
She wanted to remind Mama Bose of every morning she had swept that shop, every customer she had attended to, every small amount of money she had earned without asking for more.
But the words tangled in her throat.
Instead, she whispered,
"I didn't steal from you."
Mama Bose's face remained stern.
"I should have known better."
Tiara froze.
"What?"
"I should have known better than to bring a stranger into my house."
The word stranger pierced deeper than Tiara expected.
After everything that had happened in the past month, she had begun to think of this place as something close to home.
Not completely.
But close.
Now, in a few words, Mama Bose had reminded her that she had never truly belonged there.
"I helped you when you came here with that pregnancy," Mama Bose continued.
"I didn't know you. I didn't know your family. I didn't even know the man responsible for your condition."
Tiara lowered her eyes.
"Ma, please…"
"I took you in anyway."
"I know."
"And now my money is missing."
Tiara looked back at her.
"I didn't take it."
Mama Bose's nostrils flared, her jaw set tight.
"I have enough problems without adding theft to them."
"I am not a thief."
The words came quietly.
But they carried more weight than her shouting had.
Mama Bose looked at her.
For one brief moment, something uncertain crossed her face.
It vanished almost immediately.
"Pack your things."
Tiara stared at her.
Her mind seemed to reject the words before understanding them.
"What?"
"Pack your things and leave."
Tiara's lips parted.
"Ma…"
"I said leave."
The room suddenly felt smaller.
Tiara looked toward the doorway as though someone else might walk in and tell her this was a misunderstanding.
Nobody came.
"Where will I go?"
Mama Bose's expression remained closed.
"That is not my problem."
Tiara's chest tightened.
"I didn't take your money."
"Go and pack your things."
"Please."
"I don't want to hear anything else."
Tiara stood motionless, as though her feet had forgotten how to move.
Her fingers curled slowly into her palms.
Anger rose first.
Then humiliation.
Then fear.
The emotions collided inside her until she could barely separate one from another.
She had spent weeks trying to prove that she could survive.
She had worked.
She had saved.
She had bought things for her baby.
She had endured people looking at her stomach as though it were evidence against her.
And now, after all that, she was being called a thief.
She turned away before Mama Bose could see how badly her face had crumpled.
Her feet carried her back toward the room.
One step.
Then another.
The little space that had felt almost comforting that morning now seemed unfamiliar.
Her eyes landed on the bed.
The baby clothes were still there.
The tiny socks.
The little cap.
The dress she had been holding only minutes earlier.
Tiara walked closer.
She picked up the dress.
Her fingers trembled as she held the soft fabric.
Earlier, she had been imagining the day she would dress her daughter in it.
Now she was wondering where she would sleep that night.
She lowered herself onto the edge of the bed.
For a long moment, she simply sat there, holding the tiny dress against her chest.
Outside, the shop continued with its ordinary noise.
Customers still passed.
People still bargained.
Somewhere nearby, someone laughed.
The world had not paused because Tiara's had suddenly tilted.
She wiped her face with the heel of her palm.
Then she looked at the little dress again.
She had thought she was finally finding her footing.
She had not realised the ground beneath her was still capable of shifting.