The girls decided to spend the night at Lillian’s and take Aba home the next day. Rami would tell her mom that she was bringing some people around to meet her and then go with Peter and the herbalist first to prepare her mother before Lilian brings Aba in. However, before they dropped Peter at home, Peter suggested that they visit Hormeku’s house so that his wife will know what had happened to her husband.
They had Aba cover most of her face with a scarf since she was known to be dead. They were ushered in by a househelp who knew Peter and Rami. She let them into the living room while she went to call her madam.
Mrs Hormeku came into the room with a puzzled expression on her face, which turned into shock when Aba revealed herself.
“No, no, no. How? How are you here? Where is my husband?”
“It is over, Diane,” Peter told her fiercely. “Your husband’s wickedness has come to an end.”
She looked shocked that he could talk normally, and her face filled with fear as she realised what it meant to see him sober and coherent, with Aba alive and well and in her house.
“My husband! Where is he!” she screeched.
“My family came for me!” Aba said passionately. “My real family, not the fake one that only came back into my life to use me as a sacrifice. Your husband has finally met his evil fate. The fate that he planned for me has befallen him. We just thought you should know.”
“No, no. This cannot be happening. No! Hormeku, where are you?”
They left Mrs Hormeku wailing in despair in her living room as the househelp returned, alarmed by her screams. But they felt no pity for her, knowing she was culpable for what her husband had done all these years.
They dropped off Peter at home and drove to Lillian’s house. That night, the three girls shared Lillian’s bed with Aba in between them. Lillian was exhausted from driving and slept after an hour, but it took a long time for sleep to find the sisters. Rami was afraid she would wake up and find it was all a dream, that Aba was still dead. Aba was scared that if she closed her eyes, she would wake up in that dark room, lost to her family and friends forever.
When they did fall asleep, it was very restful and dreamless.
The next morning, the girls woke up happy and thankful. Rami called her mother to inform her that she was coming home with some people to see her. She felt guilty for letting her mother believe that it was a man and his family when she assumed so, but Rami knew that Aba’s return would bring her more happiness than her assumed impending nuptials.
After eating breakfast, they waited for the herbalist to arrive and then picked her up from the bus station before going to pick up Peter as well. As they drew closer to home, Aba grew teary, drinking in the neighbourhood she had thought she would never see again.
Lillian parked outside and waited in the car as Rami, Peter and the herbalist went inside to break the news.
“What is that drunkard doing in my house?” Their mother asked with disgust as soon as she saw Peter.
“Mom, please be nice. We have something very important to tell you, and you have to please calm down and listen.”
Her mother stared stubbornly down at Peter. “He has nothing important to share except the ramblings of a drunk.”
“Mom, please. Please just give us a few minutes to explain.”
Mrs Fordjour took a deep breath. “You’re right,” she conceded. “I should be civil. I’m sorry.”
The apology was to Rami and not Peter.
“Oh!” She said when she finally noticed the herbalist, who had initially been out of her line of sight. “I didn’t realise that we had another guest.”
“Mom, this is Dr Fafa. She is a herbalist.”
Rami could see the confused thoughts running through her mother’s mind as she looked at the woman who was donned in a simple white dress and red head wrap.
“You’re welcome,” she said reluctantly, sitting next to Rami and looking expectantly at her to explain what was going on.
Rami took a deep breath. “Mom, remember when I called you to ask if you had identified Aba’s remains yourself?”
Her mother was confused by the turn of the conversation. “Rami, what is this?”
“Mom, please indulge me for a bit. I promise you that this is good. Very good.”
Her mother didn’t look convinced, but she nodded. “Alright. Yes, I remember.”
“It’s because something happened that made me suspect that we might have buried the wrong girl. That Aba may still be alive.”
Her mother gaped. “What?” then started to laugh hysterically. “This is not funny at all, Rami. Was her car not there as well? Have you been listening to this drunkard?” she demanded furiously, staring daggers at Peter.
“Mom, Peter is not the enemy, and he is no longer a drunkard. We will get to that later, but I started from there because I don’t want to shock you.”
But her mother was shaking her head frantically. “No, no. I don’t know what this is about or why you’re doing this, Rami, but your sister is dead. We buried her. Stop listening to nonsense and giving yourself false hope! I don’t have time for this.”
“Perhaps, it would be better to just bring her now. She will be more open to explanations afterward,” the herbalist said as she studied the mother, who was now teary.
Rami opened her mouth to argue that it would shock her mother, but watching her mother’s tears and agitation, she agreed. She picked her phone and dialled. “You should come now,” she told Lillian before going to comfort her mother.
Since they had been waiting outside in Lillian’s car, it didn’t take long for them to hear the gate opening.
“Mom, I know it’s hard to believe, but Aba is not dead. We went to pick her up from where she was yesterday, and Lillian is bringing her now,” Rami told her mother gently. Her mother raised her teary face to look at Rami with a look torn between shock and hope. “Rami, this is not funny; it’s not funny.”
Rami clutched her mother’s hand in support when she heard the door opening. They all turned to look as Lillian emerged with Aba behind her. Their mother let out a petrified scream when she saw the daughter she had assumed was dead.
“Aba?” she whispered in shock, rising from her seat. “Aba, is that you?”
“Yes, Maa, it’s me,” Aba replied, crying as well.
“Aba, my Aba. They said you were dead. Gone forever. Is this real? Is this really true? Or is this another cruel dream I will wake up from?”
“It’s me, Maa. It’s me. I’m alive and well.”
They embraced each other, and for a long time, her mother didn’t want to let go.
Finally, they all sat down while they shared their stories in turns. Her mother was beside herself when she learned who kidnapped Aba and what for. “I can’t believe I allowed that evil man to deceive me a second time! And it almost cost my daughter’s life.”
When they finished recounting the whole story, she apologised profusely to Peter for wrongly hating on him and thanked both him and the herbalist for helping her get her daughter back while she tried to stop the flow of grateful tears.
Rami watched her mother and sister, still unable to fully believe that this was real. Telling her mother had been the easiest part. They were able to tell her the truth, as dubious as it all sounded. Telling the rest of the world that Aba was still alive was going to be more difficult. But she didn’t care. Her sister was not dead. She had found her. That was all that mattered.
