Chapter 17 — Not the Only One
The cock crowed.
Morning stirred over the Agyeman mansion, but peace had not yet returned.
The younger maids moved through the compound with sleepy brooms and quiet whispers. Buckets clanked. Dust rose. But something felt… off.
The older maid, Maame Yaa, stepped outside and stopped in her tracks.
There, in the small back storage room, lay Kwabena—curled up, fully dressed, fast asleep on a wooden bench.
She walked closer and called gently, "Kwabena?"
He stirred slowly, blinking against the light. His eyes were red—not from sleep, but from something heavier.
"You can't be sleeping here," she said softly. "Come inside, go and bathe. Gather yourself."
Kwabena didn't argue. He rose without a word and made his way upstairs. On his way, he paused in front of Esi's door. He knocked.
"Esi... It's morning. Can I talk to you?"
No response.
He stood there for a moment. Then walked to his room, washed down quickly, changed into clean clothes, and came back down.
"Please, prepare some koko and bread for her," he told one of the younger maids.
They did as he asked, and soon, the tray was ready—warm porridge, a small bowl of sugar, and slices of soft bread.
Kwabena took the tray himself and climbed the stairs again. He stood at Esi's door, breathing in first.
Then he knocked. "Esi… it's morning. Please eat something. Just… something."
Silence.
No footsteps. No reply.
The tray trembled slightly in his hands.
Maame Yaa appeared behind him. "Let me take it."
"She's not opening the door," he whispered.
"I know. But let me try. Trust me."
Reluctantly, he passed her the tray and stepped aside.
The older woman knocked softly—not once, but twice. Her voice came out low, soothing, and full of wisdom only time could teach.
> "Esi, my child… I know you don't want to talk. And maybe you don't want to see him right now. That's fine. But don't punish yourself too."
> "You're not the only one in pain. That man downstairs… he's tied to traditions he never asked for. He's carrying guilt you haven't even seen."
She paused.
> "Yes, he hid things from you. Yes, you have a right to be hurt. But please—eat something. If you really want to fight for your freedom, for your peace… you need strength. Eat and think. That alone is a kind of power."
A long silence followed.
Then—click.
The door cracked open. Esi appeared, eyes swollen but calm. She took the tray with quiet hands.
"Thank you," she murmured.
Maame Yaa smiled softly. "You're strong. But even the strong must eat."
Esi sat on her bed and slowly sipped the hot koko, her thoughts still tangled—but no longe
r drowning. For the first time in days, she didn't feel completely alone.