Mercy was awake now. I could feel the heat of her body close to mine. It didn't help that she was sobbing while I watched my mother hurriedly walk away.

Her sniffles and soft cries reached my ears and honestly, It took a lot of willpower not to join her. I didn't want to break down and wail. I just couldn't.

"I am strong, I am beautiful, I am bold, I am a success, I am blessed." I kept repeating those words that helped me throughout my captivity with Mama. It was working until my mother's words came barging into my head again. "Go back!"

Rather than keep my cool, I crumbled to the floor and did the one thing I said I wouldn't. Cry.

Scratch that, I wailed, succumbing to those suppressed emotional pain. I let its accompanying tears wash my tired face. It was blithering to think that all these while, they were not even searching for me.

I thought that my mother would have had a search party combing everywhere for her daughter. But, I thought wrong, it was only in my head, only in my ignorant mind.

That understanding hurt more than what Mama did. She was my mother for Christ's sake and her only job was to look out for me. This new revelation shattered me in pieces so I dispersed any self-control I had over my emotions and cried till I couldn't breathe.

I pounded the tiled floor with my fist and clutched my tummy as more sobs shook my entire being.

Mercy's arms around me brought a little comfort, but she was also crying with me. And you know what they say, misery always finds a companion.

"I'm sorry." She said in between sobs.

Words were lodged in my throat, I couldn't breathe enough for them to come out, so I wept more. Her hands tightened, letting me know she was still there.

"How...could...she?" The words stuttered out of my mouth. "My mother?" I couldn't comprehend it. It was way too much.

I felt her hands loosen around me and with her puffy eyes, she gazed into me. "Would you prefer they take your sisters?"

Slowly my body began to turn in her direction as if it were a slow-motion movie. When I succeeded in capturing her in my line of vision, I jammed eyes with her but she stayed focused and matched mine. "How could you say something like that?" I asked, wiping the snort off my nose with the tip of my gown.

If she was disgusted by that action, she didn't show it, instead, she let out a loud whoosh. "They took my sister too." She announced soberly.

The tables were turned by what she said. Now, It was my turn to fall into shock that left my mouth agape and my eyes bulged. Like a missile, It hit me. No, her confession punched me in the gut and a quick gasp followed immediately.

She shifted and rested her back on the iron bed frame. "Yes. They took my sister." Air passed through her flared nostrils as she sucked up as much oxygen as possible. In a quick release, it whooshed out of her mouth hurriedly.

I was gazing into her closed wet face. It was as if she was waiting for that emotion to pass before she could speak again. Sticking her hands in between her shaky knees, She glanced up at me again. "The worst part is that she died in their custody."

"What?" I shouted, flipping my entire body to face her. She nodded in affirmation. "And my mother had to give me up as well."

"No!"

I watched her shoulders slump dejectedly, few tears followed while she interlocked her fingers stiffly. The blanched skin around her knuckles stayed that way as she continued to hold her palms tightly.

"When my sister died," she glanced at me. "She was just your age."

"But you," I pointed at her. "How old were you when they took you?" I couldn't help but ask. She was telling this story from a place of suppressed emotion. Like she'd seen it all.

Air whooshed out of her mouth thinly, like she was practicing paused lip breathing.

"Twelve."

"At Twelve?" Suddenly, I felt cold. A shrill chill ran down my spine. Both hands landed heavily on my head and stayed there involuntarily. I didn't know how to react to an twelve-year-old going through what I'd been through in less than a year.

She lifted her head and stared forward with a determined expression. "Why does that surprise you?" She asked, slowly turning to face me.

"But, You should be in school."

She let out a cold laugh. "In school? Only the free attends school." There was a pause. "Not that my mother couldn't afford it," She continued, "Circumstances just took over my life."

I had something else to say, to ask, but words eluded me. All I stared at was her very skinny body. She was mostly bones except for the little flesh on her skin. "Who would want a twelve-year-old for heaven's sake?" My brain wrestled with a growing agitation.

Wiping her tear-glossed face, she continued. "At twelve I was already warming beds of men old sixty and above."

My stomach was rumbling, not out of hunger. I held my gown tighter, the spirit of anger was about to run me out of that room into a possible murder. I suddenly felt I needed to bring those old men to justice, jungle justice.

But then, She faced me with a sober expression. "The thing is that, if I hadn't gone with them, they would've gone for my even younger sisters. So you see, I didn't have a choice." A rogue tear ran down her face and she wiped it with her right palm. "I just didn't have a choice. I choose to pay the price. Better me than my sisters."

"Ha! Lord help me!" I muttered under my breath, trying so hard to calm myself. It's the same feeling and reaction you get when you think you've had it bad, then you meet someone who has had it worse.

Gently, she lifted her gown and turned around, her entire body had wounds, and huge scars all over. It was as if someone designed her body with a carving knife. "This is what is left of my body. This is what I'd become." Her voice shook, releasing tears down her face.

I took the hem of her dress and pulled it down, gently. "I'm so sorry," I said sympathetically. Her head nodded but her gaze was lost far away in the distance.

I didn't have to ask more questions, because I had my scars to remind me of my dilemma. To be honest, it didn't matter how angry I was, Mercy and I couldn't fight this war alone and there were many more like us out there.

I bowed my head and silently prayed. But I also knew I needed to be proactive in this situation. I just had to do something.

"So you knew from the onset?" I asked, stifling my raging anger. This was another method of kidnapping I knew nothing of. Abductors prying on families to extort their daughters from them.

She nodded. "I knew from the moment they brought back my sister's corpse. They wanted an exchange for her dead body since she didn't serve out her time, five years. She served only two, so yes, they took me."

"And your mother? What was her response?"

She smiled weakly, "We didn't have a choice. It was the only way to repay a debt."

"A debt? What debt?" I asked.

She shrugged. "My mother and Mama used to go way back."

My head pushed closer, almost forcing my face in hers. "So what happened?"

Her cold gaze came at me and iced me out. It wasn't something she could discuss. I discerned that from that one glance. Slowly, I nodded, understanding that I may have crossed a boundary.

So we sat there staring into space in a sudden silence. Our tears dried and left map-like patches on our faces. There were lots of questions in my head and the more I tried to push them back, the quicker they swarmed to the surface.

I scratched my head, finally yielding to my inquisitive side. But I needed to figure out how to phrase the next question.

"Did Mama also take you?" I blurted out, gunning straight without hesitation.

She smiled, not taking her eyes off the floor. "You mean Mrs. Gladys NneEze? AKA Mama?"

I braced back as though someone pierced me. "Do you know her?"

She busted out laughing. "Who doesn't know the biggest kidnapping merchant in this state?"

"I didn't know her." I retorted.

"Then your mother kept a lot from you. Most people," She paused. "Know her, especially people my mother's age. For people in need, Nne Eze ( Mama) gives loans with a steep price if you don't pay up in time."

"But why would my mother go borrowing from anyone?" I mumbled in confusion. Our fufu business was enough to feed us excluding education and house rent. Not that we even had a great accommodation, but it was home, it was enough.

"Parents do what they got to do." Mercy sighed. "Mama was just the plug to help them take care of us. Unfortunately, we are paying terribly for it."

I shrugged, putting all the information about my mother's involvement on the back burner. No matter what, truth always comes to light, but until then, I wouldn't speculate.

"I have only been to two of her camps." I continued, reverting the conversation to my main target...Mama. "Although efficiently run, I do not believe Mama could run more than those two."

She smiled faintly, keeping her gaze far away. "She's the Queenking!"

"No," I argued. "It will be quite a lot for an old woman like her."

Her palms slapped together loudly for a deep effect. It jerked me backward but got my attention. "She runs them all." Her head nodded like she was more than certain. "She kidnaps, pimps, robs, and adds thuggery to it."

I watched her count all Mama's enterprises on her left hand, picking each finger as she counted.

My right palm flew over my mouth in surprise. "She couldn't! It's not possible! They are just too many."

"Stay there and let clothes be wearing you." Her five right fingers pointed at me at once. "Ever heard of kidnapping franchises?"

"No."

She kissed her teeth and sighed. "Without Mama's seal of approval, none of the smaller gangs can operate. She's paid monthly by these groups and even gets a cut when a ransom is paid."

"This is huge!" I exclaimed, placing both palms on my cheeks.

"A beg calm down please." Mercy cooed, stilling her vibrating self. "Mama is in charge of all those camps. The gang that attacked us came from her. Her foot soldiers are many. The law enforcement agencies are all in her palm. She has stakes in various markets, gas stations, and malls. Her 'eyes' are everywhere watching, planning, and picking people off the streets and from their homes."

"Are you saying she's also responsible for the rampant robberies going on in different cities?" I couldn't help but ask.

She nodded, running her palms across her face. "So you see, she's way too connected. Nothing seems to stop her."

I watched her intently, she was way too young to gather all this information. "How do you even know all these?" I couldn't help but ask.

"My mom." She said.

I raised an eyebrow, then furrowed them at her suspiciously. " Your mom?" I echoed.

She nodded. "She owed Mama some money and couldn't pay. So her people took my sister and now me."

She lifted her head and stared at the dim light above us and shut her eyes with a nervous expression. "The world needs to know who she is. But make no mistakes, her allies in law enforcement won't let that happen because it will also expose them."

"Then how?" I asked restlessly. I was now terribly scared for my sisters. I needed to stop Mama.

"Evidence and Social media."

I coughed out laughter. "You are not serious. Nobody wins in the courts of public opinion, how much more social media of all places? Moreover, we don't even have evidence....yet. Plus and worst of all this is Nigeria."

The smile waned off her face. "You don't understand. Mama has a reputation. Just so you know, she also runs a prestigious school in this city. And that is how she redeems her image."

My ears perked up and I shifted closer to her. "A School?"

"Yes. Very good one." She began to lift herself from the floor. "So you see, one scandal will destroy that business and hopefully, the kidnapping as well."

Just then, Nurse Dima walked into the room, abruptly ending our conversation.

"You didn't sleep?" She asked, worry written on her face. We both nodded. "Her mom was here." Mercy explained.

The nurse was instantly worried. "Did? Did anything happen?" She looked me over.

"No," I answered. This was not the time to retell a story I just didn't want to deal with.

I glanced at the tiny desk clock on a small table in the room, It was already morning. Between my mother and her chaos, plus Mercy's revelations, We didn't realize, we'd spent more time talking than sleeping.