As we drive to Papa Obi’s place in my brand new BMW, Abby is very inquisitive. “Road trip to Where? Will we have a few stops?” she asks, and the questions go on and on.

After a while, I park outside Papa Obi’s house.

“What is this place?” Abby asks.

“A rest stop,” I respond, lying.

“It looks abandoned,” she says.

“It is an attraction,” I say, smiling. I know how much she used to like ancient buildings.

“I am glad you took me out here,” she says, holding my hand.

After a while, we walk up the path and reach Papa Obi’s door. Again, he shouts from inside the house when we reach the door.

“Leave the shoes there!” he shouts.

We do as we are told, and as we walk in, we find Papa Obi seated with his back turned to us, and then the door snaps shut behind us.

“George, is that the fiancé?” Papa Obi asks.

“Yes,” I respond, trembling.

“Good. Leave her here,” Papa Obi says.

“What? Why?” Abby says, sounding scared.

“What will you do to her?” I ask.

“Take her back to where she belongs, the graveyard,” Papa Obi responds, turning to face us.

“George!” Abby says, and then her eyes fill with tears.

“I am sorry, Abby,” I say, also crying.

“Leave!” Papa Obi shouts at me.

Before leaving, I give Abby a quick hug, and the door opens and quickly shuts after I leave. I then drive back to my flat, sobbing. It feels like three years back when I received that phone call informing me of her death and how she had gotten into a bad car accident. The huge truck had swallowed her mini Cooper together with her in the process. At the time, I got comfort in the belief that she had died instantly. That was better than her suffering and crying before finally lying still while her life drained out of her.

When I get home, I get into my flat and, for the first time since Friday, I doze off into a sound sleep. I believe I cried myself to sleep.

Tell us: What do you think Papa Obi is going to do to Abby?