I loved my dad so much, but he loved her too much to listen. (Ep4)

Two weeks laterFor a while, I had not been feeling very good in my body. That morning, before I left home, I saw my dad downstairs. He looked tired, but he smiled when he saw me.“I’ve been waiting for you to come down,” he said.He apologised for staying away for so long. He said he knew I had been trying to talk to him and that he should have listened sooner.“When you come back from school today, we’ll have a little family get-together,” he said. “We’ll sit down and talk. I want to hear everything you’ve been meaning to say to me all this while.”I was happy to hear that. For the first time in a long while, I felt like maybe I was finally going to get my answers. I looked forward to going home that day.At school, though, I started feeling worse. My head hurt, and by the time our first lesson began, my body felt strangely hot. I told my teacher I wasn't feeling well. She looked at me and said, “You should go to the school clinic.”I hated the smell of hospitals and clinics. Even the thought of sitting there made me uncomfortable.“I’ll just rest in the class,” I said.She insisted. I promised her I would go if I didn't feel better. Not long after that, the bell rang for sports and everyone began leaving the classroom. I stayed behind. I rested my head on my desk, hoping the headache would pass. Then I felt pressed.I got up and hurried to the bathroom. I had barely reached the sink when I heard a voice behind me.“Chidera?”I turned. It was Mariana. Mariana was the nosiest person in our class. If something happened in one corner of the school, she somehow knew about it before the person it happened to. Her eyes dropped to my skirt.“Is that blood?”My heart jumped.“No,” I said quickly. “It’s ink.”She looked at me. “From where?”“A red pen. It bloated in my bag.”“Mmm.”She clearly didn't believe me, but she walked away. I waited until the bathroom door closed behind her before looking at myself properly in the mirror. It was blood.For a few seconds, I just stared. I had seen blood before. Cuts. Scratches. Things that happened when you were a child. But this was different. I suddenly remembered something our Home Economics teacher had said once about girls growing up and their bodies changing. At the time, I hadn't paid much attention. Now I wished I had.I cleaned myself up as best as I could, but I didn't really know what I was doing. When I got back to the classroom, Suzanne was just coming in. She took one look at me and knew something was wrong.“What's wrong with you?”“Nothing.”She didn't believe me. “You don't look fine.”“I’m fine, Suzanne.”She came closer and lowered her voice. “Come.”“Where?”“Bathroom.”I followed her. As soon as we got inside, she looked at me properly. “Did you see your period?”I stared at her. “How did you know?”She gave me a small smile. “Chidera, I’ve seen this before.”I looked down. “I don't know what to do.”She took me through everything slowly. She helped me clean up properly, showed me what to use and made sure I was okay before we left. By the time we returned to class, I felt embarrassed, tired and strangely relieved.I sat down. Suzanne pulled her chair closer. “You're growing up.”I looked at her. She smiled. “I’m happy for you.”I didn't understand why she looked so excited. “Why?”“Because this is normal, na.”I remembered Mariana. “I saw Mariana earlier. She asked me and I told her it was red ink.”Suzanne laughed. “Of course you did.”We agreed to talk about it properly during lunch break.A little later, our teacher came to our table. “What happened to you this morning?” she asked.“Nothing, ma. I just have a headache.”“You don't look very well.”“I’ll manage.”She told me to go to the school clinic.“I can manage in class.”“You need to be able to concentrate.”I agreed.The rest of the day moved slowly. By lunch, Suzanne helped me again when I needed to clean up. I spent most of the afternoon feeling weak and uncomfortable, but I kept thinking about my dad. About the conversation we were supposed to have. About the picture. The key. My stepmother. And everything I had heard two weeks earlier. I was going to tell him everything.When school finally closed, I said goodbye to Suzanne and made my way home. Part of me was actually relieved. My stepmother and I hadn't really been talking since everything that happened between us. I didn't know how I was supposed to tell her about my period without feeling awkward, so I was secretly glad that Dad had said he would be home and we could talk about it. I just wanted to get to him.But when I got close to the house, I heard shouting. It was coming from inside. I recognised my stepmother's voice. Then I heard a name I had almost forgotten.“Paul!”

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