Everything became a blur for Maureen after that. She heard the words, saw them leaving Steve's mouth but she simply couldn't wrap her head around them.

"Is it true?" she asked Laura, her own voice sounding foreignly calm. Laura, now a weeping mess on the floor, only nodded, breaking into fresh sobs. "Does Philip know?" Laura shook her head, face hidden behind her palms, body wracking from her endless tears. Maureen, still surprised at how detached she felt from the whole situation, walked out of the house.

Even in her car, hidden from the world by the tinted glass, she couldn't bring herself to cry. She sat there for a while, waiting for the pain to cripple her, anticipating her heart to implode, her world to crumble, for her own little apocalypse. It never came.

She started her car, sighing, what was she going to do now? She decided to drive to Westlands where Philip was setting up their new restaurant. Driving haphazardly, she almost rammed into a blue Toyota Corolla.

Maureen remembered the day her dad walked back home six years after he had eloped with his gacungwa. How her mother had welcomed him home with open arms like nothing had happened. How, weighed down by guilt and gratitude, he had become a more sensitive husband, loving and diligent in his attentions to her mother. He had over compensated as a father also, become less harsh and more inclined to understand. Well, Maureen thought, she wasn't her mother.

The restaurant was on the first floor of Duke Mall. Philip was busy with redesigning it, an endeavour that had bled them dry financially. She was still looking for a trustworthy taxi driver to start making some extra cash off of her car. Climbing up the mall stairs, she wondered if anyone could tell that her life was unravelling. She walked into the open space meant for their restaurant. Strewn across the floor were pieces of wood, cardboard, paint brushes, nylon paper, saws, overalls, junk, the works. The workers must have left already, Philip, she figured would be in the back office.

She managed to make her way past the heaps of equipment and trash to the other side. She stood at the door for a while, surprised that Philip was blasting Tupac at work. The music was so loud she could feel the vibrations on the door handle. This was very uncharacteristic of him. She stood at the door for a while, wondering why she was here in the first place.

Torn between unleashing hysterics or being dignified, if ever there was a dignified way to confront one's husband about a love child with one's ex best friend, she took a moment to breathe. A mental heads and tails landed on faux dignified. She pushed open the door in one determined push, she wished she hadn't.

By the time Philip and his bimbo noticed her standing at the door, completely dumbfounded, she had been there for almost a minute. She had seen it, been a part of it even. The moaning, groaning, hair pulling, scratching, clinging, touching, screaming drowned out by loud gangster music... Everything in explicit detail.

"Maureen?"Philip choked out when he finally looked away from the girl long enough to notice her. He jumped, pulled up his trousers, threw the girl a dress and struggled not to pass out from consternation. The look on his face was one of total dismay, utter shame, complete shock, like a thief who had never expected to be caught. As if on cue, the radio suddenly stopped playing.

"What's going on?" asked the girl, still seated on the desk. Maureen fought the urge to lunge at her, tear that fake Brazilian off her dumb head. She wondered how much soap, water and detergent would be sufficient to sterilise, the damn desk. "Rono, you'd better go," Philip said, voice barely audible. The girl took a moment, looking between Maureen and Philip, before recognition registered over her face. She looked genuinely embarrassed, sincerely sorry about the whole situation. The innocent facade, Maureen mused, typical Philip. The girl took her things from the floor including a university students ID card and three one thousand shillings notes. She was anxious to leave but unsure with Maureen still standing on the door like a statue.

"Don't come after me, Philip, just don't," Maureen finally said. Releasing her death grip on the door handle, she turned around, first stumbling, then walking out the same way she had come. She realised she had been harbouring a little hope, had been willing, albeit reluctant, to wade through the murky waters that was the situation with Laura. Imaging that Laura must have manipulated Philip, she had thought him to be just a victim of the relentless conniving of her ex partner in crime. Subconsciously she had resigned herself to the Kubler Ross cycle, assuming that in a year or two she would be able to accept, forgive and move on. Divorce had never crossed her mind, not until she was staring at Philip go at it with another woman.

She decided to drive around to clear her mind, digest what had just happened. For once, she would allow herself the luxury and worry about oil prices tomorrow. Abandoning the highway, she sought out less busy roads, where she could escape any form of chaos apart from her own.

Not long after, her car was pulled up by the side of a one way road, spitting out more smoke than a 19th century locomotive. It was already dark, almost 8pm and she felt particularly vulnerable seeing as the area was generally deserted. On one side of the road was a high fence, and incomplete buildings on the other. Just before she got out to inspect the car, a blue Toyota Corolla pulled up right behind her. Immediately recognising it as the car she almost hit back in Kahawa, she knew she had been followed.

Her heart dropped to her stomach. This day couldn't get any worse. With trembling hands she tried to restart the car only for it to spew more smoke. She couldn't make a run for it in time, she knew that, so she called Diana, frantic in her efforts to stay alive.

"Hello, Mo," Diana finally picked up. Maureen froze when she saw four men climb out of the blue Toyota Corolla. Two with machetes and one with a gun. It was as if she was being served fear on the holy grail. She drank from it, gobbling it all down one huge gulp after another until it intoxicated her, blurring her vision, rushing blood through her empty head.

Eyes stuck on the men, she spoke as fast as she could. Spitting out words like an Eminem freestyle. "Listen, I drove off the Westy-Kangemi road, took a left at the intersection around steers, then a right, I'm some place that looks like an estate under construction... There's four men... A gun..."

She screamed when the flat part of a machete banged on her bonnet, right as the gun was pointed right at her. Three of the men looked like Kakamega fighting bulls. The other was some distance away from the action, he stood out like a sore thumb, he was ordinary height and size, looking every bit uncomfortable.

The gunman motioned for Maureen to get out. Climbing out of the car on wobbly feet and uncertaint senses, she almost fell face flat at his feet.

"Piga magoti hapo kando madam, na ulete nye nye nye uone ka sitakukatakata," said the gunman asking her to kneel down and cooperate unless she wanted to be chopped up. She didn't have to be told twice.

The fourth man finally walked close enough for her to make him out in the moonlight. She almost laughed at how sick and twisted it all was. If she wasn't seeing him with her own two eyes, she would never have believed it. Jeffrey!

He threw a clip board at her. Attached to it was a pen and a printed document. "Sign it," he said to her, eyes wild with excitement, like someone tasting power for the first time. "What is this," Maureen asked, reaching for the clipboard, the light was too dim for her to read. "Your confession," replied Jeffrey. She could see right through him. He was extremely uncomfortable, like car jacking, exciting though it may be, wasn't something he was used to. Propelled by this, she decided to try out smarting him.

"What's your plan Jeffrey? See I'm wracking my brain for a scenario where this ends well, for you... But there isn't one... Hmm... Indulge me for a minute, how exactly is this going to work?" She inquired, feigning nonchalance.

"Now you're worried about me?" Jeffrey laughed.
"Bro chap chap, kabla gari ama mtu apitie huku," said the gunman to Philip. Hurry, before a person or a car passes this way. "Help me understand the plan, I'm part of it, aren't I? You're just going to present a self implicating confession in my name and signature, absolving you... coinciding with my mysterious disappearance, assuming you intend to see this through, because unless you finish me off and bury my remains in Ngong', I don't see how I won't contest the validity of anything I sign here once you set me free. I will screem duress at anyone who will see this piece of paper.. It all ends in jail... " Maureen dragged out every word, animatedly waving her hands, watching Jeffrey's reactions as if he was a witness in court.

"Nyamaza, wewe sign chap chap madam,"warned the gunman. Maureen was beginning to wonder the significance of the other two thugs. So far all they did was look out for something that didn't seem to come, slap mosquitos from their arms, half heartedly brandish their machetes at her each time the gunman addressed her and breathe heavily.

"Jeff, niskie, let me go, I'll forget this ever happened,"

"Shut up,"he told her picking up the clipboard and holding it out to her. "There's no way this will work..." Maureen was cut off by the sight of the open unblinking eye of the gun pointed right at her. Not one to take unnecessary risks, she took the clipboard from Jeffrey and did as she was told.

"Now, call Nyaga senior, tell him to expect this tomorrow morning,"Jeffrey said. His voice was triumphant with signs of exhaustion and wear. He didn't look like he had the stomach for a lot of violence, Maureen read the desperation in his actions. Desperate men were dangerous men.

"Then what? You kill me?"
"No, I let you go."
"You expect me not to talk?"
"Not a single word."
"Really? Why not just kill me?"

Maureen didn't know what she hoped to achieve with this. "Tell me one thing, before I let you go... Why out of everybody else, you chose me to take the fall for you?"

"I don't know what you're talking about Jeffrey, what fall?"

"Yes you do, I've known about your little rendez vous with Laura from Hamilton all along. Patel, Samuel and what? Three other cases? Kept my mouth shut. Admired your audacity. Thought atleast one person could afford to do the right thing. Was never going to say anything, until you came after me. I should have burned you a long time ago, back when I hated you for being privileged and snobbish. I will expose you, don't be mistaken, unless you behave accordingly. Let's see if your father in law is powerful enough to save you from five misconduct allegation"

Maureen held out her hand and the gunman handed her her phone. When she called Nyaga snr, it was driven more by shame that fear. Her self preservation mentality had made her cross a line. She was the antagonist of this story, a self justified villain. Jeffrey was the vigilante, a Robin Hood of sorts, taking back what was his, illegally but in a city of suited up kleptomaniacs,his options were limited.

Ngaga Senior did not pick up, so she left him a voice mail. "Jeffrey is innocent. I am responsible for the leak. I am honestly sorry for betraying your trust. Aware of the irreparable damage I have caused, I'll tender my resignation first thing tomorrow morning. I know I shouldn't ask you for anything, but I hope you find it in your heart to exempt me from facing the disciplinary committee and potentially getting disbarred."

Jeffrey and his goons left her by the side of the road, taking her car with them. She figured Jeffrey must have exchanged it for their services. Between their weapons and Jeffrey's threat, she decided it was best not to put up a fight.

She began to digest what had just happened in little bitter doses. The other shoe had finally dropped, the cumulative weight of all her losses weighed heavily on her battered soul, crushing her. It was the end of a life, it flashed before her eyes, bits and pieces of moments in quick succession. It was all over, she acknowledged painfully. An acute sense of meaninglessness engulfed her, coiling itself around her, squeezing the life out her. All the things that defined who she was were gone, her marriage, her career, her best friend, her money, her car even her hope. When she broke down, it was as if floodgates had been opened. She cried, weeping and wailing for her own demise, there was no other way she could interpret it, Mrs. Maureen Nyaga was among the dead now.

Diana finally found Maureen by the roadside, still tearing at her clothes and singing dirges to herself in Kiluhya. Wordlessly, she pulled Maureen to her feet and led her to the waiting car where her son and husband sat in relieved silence. Both men looked away, uncomfortable they had to witness Maureen in such a state. At the moment, Maureen did not care, she got into the car and continued to sob quietly. They drove off without a word.

A/N
Hey lovely readers, after a week or three of writer's block, here is something. Did you like it or is the drama too much all at once. I have to admit I had too much fun destroying her life. I've been writing from a dark sadistic place, hahahahah. But in Chapters to come, we'll turn Maureen into a decent human being. Btw a gacungwa is a mistress, it's a Kikuyu word. Finally we've met Diana, big plans for her ahead. Please vote and comment. :)
Love,
Stacy.