Chapter 45
Tshabina
It’d been more than a week since I set foot in the UK, and a few days since I last saw Mama Nadine. After that day, when she had fled the room with laboured breathing and ragged sobs that thundered through the house, I hadn’t seen her again.
I hadn’t seen Mama Nadine in the past few days because she’d been locked away in her room. Only Zioh, Zeraiah, Grandma Morag, Grandpa Ethan, and some household staff were allowed in. Whenever I tried to approach her door, someone would intercept me.
I sighed.
I couldn’t sleep or even swallow food or drink.
The holiday that began with laughter and light shifted into something colder.
Smiles faded, conversation shortened, until only the clock remained—echoing with every hour passed.
And even with heaters warmed every corner of this house, it still felt the snow outside had crept into these walls.
But neither Zioh nor Tsabinu wanted to tell me what had really happened that day. When I asked, Tsabinu would only say that Mama Nadine wasn’t feeling well, and Zioh insisted it was merely a matter of her work. Yet their behaviours betrayed them.
Anyone could see that something was wrong.
Lately, Tsabinu and Zioh had been drifting into silence more often. I’d caught their gaze fixed on nothing, their faces vacant, their fingers tapping, and their feet moving restlessly.
Especially Zioh.
He massaged his temples incessantly, tapping against his head as if in pain. He shook his head hard and clenched his fists as his breathing grew ragged. Whenever I sensed it worsening, he pushed me away and retreated into solitude.
Closing his door to shut me out.
Last night, I fell asleep in front of his bedroom door, waiting for him to come out. But he didn’t open the door until the morning came, and carried me back to my room before withdrawing again.
Even the staff and housemaids were acting strangely, tense, and gloomy.
Hours after Mama Nadine had a shattering collapse, Grandpa Ethan and Grandma Morag suddenly returned home and chose to stay. They were rarely around before, so why would they decide to remain unless something serious had happened?
And, as usual, no one wanted to explain it to me.
Also, the night after she spiralled into that sobbing wreck, her cries still echoed through the hallway. I was sure it came from her room. But when I tried to check, one of the maids stopped me, insisting that she was already asleep, even though I had just heard the cries moments before.
I knew something was wrong, yet I was kept in the dark, and it felt as if a thousand sharp teeth were gnawing at me from the inside.
But Zeraiah seemed as clueless as I was.
“Mum’s been weak these past few days, just lying down all the time. She cries and draws, then she phones someone in tears over and over again.” That was the only explanation I got from Zeraiah, and my mind drifted further, unable to settle. Something had hurt Mama Nadine.
Zeraiah turned gloomy, lost like me. I didn’t know what happened, but… I hoped Mama Nadine was all right.
Christmas should be a time of joy. We should be laughing, making memories, enjoying our first holiday together in England. But now, even with gifts piled beneath the tree, it felt like nothing but emptiness.
This morning, as tradition went, we gathered beneath the tree to open presents—late, because none of us could drag ourselves out of bed with any energy.
There was no excitement, smiles, or joy—just silence and heavy sighs. I opened my gift in slow, quiet motions. The hot chocolates the maid had made for us remained beside us, untouched, not even glanced at. They were probably cold by now.
Then, my phone chimed. It was a message from Dad. He had sent countless photos of himself with Mum, glowing with happiness. My lips curled into a smile; at least their Christmas was beautiful.
The photos must have been taken during Mum’s dance performance a few days ago. She looked stunning. Dad was lucky to have her, and they were fortunate to have each other.
In one shot, they posed as if the world had disappeared around them. Mum was still in costume, holding Dad’s bouquet. Along with the pictures came their Christmas wishes.
If they knew what we were going through here…
I looked back at the three boys in front of me. Zeraiah opened his present with little enthusiasm; Tsabinu kept fiddling with his; and Zioh… He stared at the pile of presents; he wasn’t blinking, as if he weren’t there at all.
Licking my lips, I hesitated for a heartbeat before trying to break the silence with a cheerful voice. “Dad and Mum say Merry Christmas!” I smiled. “They’ll give us our presents once we’re back home.”
The three of them turned to me. Zeraiah gave a faint nod but then sank back into silence. So, I tried again, lifting my phone.
“Oh, and Dad sent loads of pictures of Mum’s performance. Do you want to see?” I shuffled closer, wedging between Zioh and Tsabinu, while Zeraiah sat beside his brother. I held up my phone for them to see, scrolling through the photos with excitement.
Tsabinu let out a small, warm smile. Zeraiah smirked and muttered, “What a pair of old lovebirds,” earning laughter from Tsabinu and me when we reached the photo of Dad kissing Mum’s cheek.
We laughed, but not Zioh. He remained silent beside me, staring at the screen. His distant, hollow expression made my chest tighten. He seemed to be travelling through his thoughts, lost somewhere with them.
I wasn’t used to seeing Zioh like this. No matter how often I tried to reach him, he had felt so far away these past days.
Then, without warning, Zioh stood up. The three of us snapped our heads toward him. “I’m going to the loo,” he muttered, his tone flat and cutting, before leaving without a glance.
I froze, watched him walk away. He shook his head in a continuous motion and clenched his fist tightly. My heart hammered at the sight, and I let out a shaky breath.
As I was about to follow after him, Tsabinu suddenly wrapped a firm arm around my shoulders, pulling me closer. His grip was warm and steady, and his voice was soft. “This is bad, Dek. We might end up with a new baby sibling,” he said as he glanced at me.
Raising my brow, I stared at him in disbelief.
Ewww. Disgusting!
Zeraiah burst into loud laughter, nearly doubling over beside him. “You can make your own with your seed if you want, Bib!”
Ugh. Their words made me grimace. How could they say that so casually? Annoyed, I pinched both at their sides and scowled at them.
“Ow!” Zeraiah winced, and they chuckled as Tsabinu straightened my fringe. Still grinning, Zeraiah shoved a stack of large, pink-wrapped presents at me. “From Dad,” he said.
My eyes lit up at once. It was no secret that Uncle Bakti often spoiled me. I mean, there were more than a dozen gifts!
According to Zeraiah, his dad always wished he’d had a daughter, and since he considered me as one, I became the target of his doting.
But not only that, Mama Nadine had always been kind to us, and my parents had always treated Zioh, Zeraiah, and even Zaeem with the same warmth.
Mum would even make time to cook for them, because they loved her cooking.
We shared family, because we were family.
Usually, Zeraiah would grumble whenever I was treated specially. Last year, he even sulked because Uncle Bakti gave me two presents while he only got one.
But this time, he tore open his gift with no interest.
I knew why, because we all felt the same. It was Mama Nadine.
If she were well, she would’ve been here: snapping photos, fussing over us, and urging us to hurry so we wouldn’t be late for church. Her absence was like a hole in the room.
Minutes passed, but still no sign of Zioh. A tense energy crawled under my skin; even the pile of presents in my lap lost meaning. My eyes kept darting in the direction he had gone.
Was he angry at me? But why?
I sighed and let my head drop. Tsabinu glanced at me, and just as he reached out to rest his hand on my shoulder, someone sat down between us. Tsabinu’s hand froze mid-air.
All of us turned at once.
Zioh had come back. He tilted his head towards me, a faint smile softening his lips, though his skin looked pale and his lips almost colourless. “Merry Christmas, Sophie.” His voice was husky and low as he handed me a wrapped gift.
My eyes brightened as I looked at him. A strange heat swelled in my chest and climbed up into my eyes. But his gentle smile… It eased something inside me.
I grinned back, wide and genuine. “Thank you,” I said, our eyes meeting, holding, and speaking in ways words couldn’t.
My smile rose all the way to my eyes when a memory crossed my mind. “Oh! I have something for you, too!” I quickly leaned forward, grabbed a black box from beneath the tree, and handed it to him.
He accepted it with a tender smile, and I caught Zeraiah’s sarcastic glare from the corner of my eye. I clicked my tongue at him. “Yes, you have one too,” I snapped, handing over gifts to both him and Tsabinu.
Zeraiah smirked, his eyes glinting with amusement, and he shook his box.
I narrowed my eyes at him. “Don’t open it yet!” I warned.
Zioh let out a small laugh, brushing my cheek with his hand. “Thank you, Sophie,” he whispered.
I looked up at him. I hope you’ll always smile like this, Zioh. Holding his hand, I said, unable to hide my excitement, “Tomorrow we—”
But my words never finished.
Because they were cut short by a sudden, deafening scream that tore through the house.
We froze, startled, staring upwards towards the source. The sound came again, louder, raw with anguish and pain.
Mama Nadine.
The housemaids rushed past us, sprinting upstairs towards her room. My body stiffened as my mind struggled to process the sudden chaos. Zioh and Zeraiah leapt up in panic, bolting up the stairs.
I made to follow, but Tsabinu’s hand caught mine before I could rise, gripping hard. His face was pale, his eyes wide with fear.
“Don’t… don’t, Dek,” he whispered, his voice trembling. “We… we stay here.”