FINAL PART | ALL PARENTS NEEDS TO WATCH THIS!!!
The hospital corridor was sterile and cold, the doctor’s words echoing like a death knell: “The babies are alive, but unfortunately, she didn’t make it.” Wana’s world shattered. A sharp pain tore through her chest, her vision blurring as her legs gave way. She collapsed, her head striking the tiled floor with a sickening thud. Frank stood frozen, his face drained of color, sinking to the ground as grief and regret consumed him. Kehinde pressed himself against the wall, his body numb, his eyes searching for an escape from the nightmare. But there was none. Taiwo was gone.
In the days that followed, Kehinde withdrew into his darkened room, the silence of the house amplifying the chaos in his mind. Memories of Taiwo haunted him—her laughter, her tears, her final words: “Some things are better left unsaid.” He’d pressed her for answers about her illness, but she’d refused to tell him. Now, the guilt was unbearable. If he’d stopped her that first night, if he’d refused her advances, maybe she’d still be alive. The thought gnawed at him, driving him to sleepless nights and relentless torment.
One night, the weight became too much. Kehinde sat on his bed, trembling hands clutching a bottle of pills. Just enough to end the pain, to silence the nightmares. But as he raised the bottle, Frank’s voice shattered the silence. “Kehinde!” The door burst open, and Frank knocked the pills from his grasp, scattering them across the floor. “What do you think you’re doing?” he demanded, fear lacing his voice.
Kehinde couldn’t speak, tears blurring his vision. Frank pulled him into a fierce embrace. “This isn’t the way,” he said softly. “Taking your life won’t bring Taiwo back. It won’t fix anything.” Kehinde broke down, sobbing as he let the grief pour out, surrendering the urge to end it all.
The Adebayo household settled into a hollow routine. Wana took on the care of the twins, Adana and Adabe, her every action mechanical as she fed and cleaned them. Frank resumed work, acting as if life could go on, but his detachment only deepened Wana’s resentment. She sat one evening, clutching a photo of Taiwo, her mind racing. The doctor’s claim of “birth complications” felt wrong. A mother’s instinct screamed that something was amiss.
The doorbell rang, startling Wana and Kehinde. Naomi, Taiwo’s classmate, stood at the door, her eyes red from crying. “There’s something you need to know about Taiwo’s illness,” she said, her voice trembling. She revealed that Taiwo had confided in her about the pregnancy, terrified and desperate. Naomi had given her pills to terminate it, believing she was helping. “She was so scared,” Naomi sobbed. “I didn’t think it would turn out like this.”
Wana’s face twisted in pain. “You encouraged her to take pills?” Naomi nodded, ashamed. Then she dropped another bombshell: two weeks before labor, Taiwo had called, complaining of dizziness and stomach pain after drinking fruit juice. “She thought it was her due date,” Naomi said, “but now I think something wasn’t right.”
Wana’s blood ran cold. A horrifying suspicion took root. The next day, while cleaning, she heard a cry from the twins’ room. One baby wailed uncontrollably; the other lay still, burning with fever. Panicked, Wana and Kehinde rushed the child to the hospital, Frank driving in tense silence. The diagnosis was severe neonatal anemia, requiring an immediate blood transfusion. Kehinde volunteered, but the doctor’s return brought a shocking revelation: “His blood doesn’t match. Kehinde is not the father.”
Wana staggered, her mind reeling. If Kehinde wasn’t the father, who was? Her gaze flickered to Frank, whose face paled. The truth began to unravel, piece by agonizing piece.
Determined to confirm her suspicions, Wana collected strands of Frank’s hair while he shaved, secretly submitting them for a DNA test. The results were devastating: Frank was a 99.9% match for the twins’ father. Wana confronted him, her fury uncontainable. She flung the results at him, shattering a beer bottle against the wall. “Tell me it’s a lie!” she screamed.
Frank collapsed, sobbing. “I didn’t mean for this to happen,” he stammered, admitting to a drunken night when Wana was away. He’d found Taiwo asleep, and in his intoxicated state, he’d crossed a line he couldn’t undo. “I regretted it the moment I woke up,” he wept. “She wouldn’t even look at me after.”
Wana’s heart broke. Taiwo had suffered in silence, carrying her father’s children, her distance and fear now painfully clear. But Frank’s confession grew darker. “I didn’t want her to have them,” he admitted, revealing he’d laced her juice with a potion to induce a miscarriage, desperate to hide his sin. “It wasn’t supposed to kill her,” he insisted, but Wana’s rage erupted. “You poisoned her! You killed our daughter!”
Frank crumbled, his guilt overwhelming. Wana walked away, vowing he’d pay for his actions. At her friend Sophia’s house, she broke down, unable to process the betrayal. The next morning, a call from the hospital delivered another blow: Child Protective Services had taken the twins, deeming Wana and Frank unfit due to the circumstances of their birth. Wana’s pleas were futile; her grandchildren were gone.
Returning home, Wana heard a gunshot. She found Frank dead, a note and a gun beside him, his final act of cowardice. Numb, she felt neither relief nor pain—just emptiness.
Eighteen years later, Kehinde sat on his apartment porch, clutching a letter to Adana and Adabe, the twins he’d watched grow up in foster care from afar. He’d sent countless letters, never expecting a response. But that day, a car pulled up, and the twins stepped out, now young adults. Their faces, a haunting blend of Taiwo and Frank, stared at him.
“You look younger than I imagined,” Adabe said coldly. Adana admitted they’d read his letters, initially hating him, believing he was their father and Taiwo’s killer. A nurse had revealed the truth: Frank was their father. “We spent our lives hating the wrong person,” Adabe said bitterly.
Kehinde’s heart ached. “I tried to reach you, but they wouldn’t let me.” Hesitantly, the twins agreed to try building a relationship. As they embraced, Adana shared one final revelation: Wana was in a nursing home, her memory fading. “She barely knows us some days,” she said. Kehinde vowed to visit, clinging to a flicker of hope.
Epilogue
The Adebayo family was irreparably broken. Wana, lost to her fading memories, carried the weight of her daughter’s death and her husband’s betrayal. Kehinde, scarred by guilt, found solace in reconnecting with the twins, though the truth of their origins remained a heavy burden. Adana and Adabe, shaped by a childhood in foster care, faced a future uncertain but open to healing. The sins of the past had claimed Taiwo and Frank, leaving behind a legacy of pain—but in the twins’ embrace, Kehinde glimpsed a chance for redemption, however fragile.
