I'm Heartbroken
CHAPTER ONE – THE WEIGHT OF BLOOD Daniel Aremu had always believed that family was meant to be a safe place. He grew up thinking it was the one circle where you could be yourself without fear, the one group of people who would choose you even when the whole world turned its back. As a boy, he thought the walls of their house held love the way a pot holds water — full, warm, and ready to serve. But over the years, he realised that even a pot with a small crack will slowly leak until one day you look inside and find it empty. The Memory That Never Left He was eight years old the day it happened. It was a Thursday afternoon, the kind when the harmattan air was dry and every sound seemed sharper. He had stayed behind in school because of Art Club. For days, Daniel had been working on a drawing — a large, colourful sketch of a village scene. It was the best thing he had ever drawn. He had used his lunch money to buy special pencils from a roadside shop, and he had begged his classmate, Bisi...