“Hurry, hurry, dear,” she whispered vehemently.

“Shush, quiet!” Fakude ordered.

“Oh, please. You are just a coward,” she insulted him, as she attempted to unzip the bag with no hesitation.

They thought their eyes were deceiving them, but no; they saw what they saw.

“Wow, sweetheart. Curios! Wow,” he happily snapped.

“We are going to be rich, wow.” Mrs Fakude’s face was glowing. Wrinkles were hardly noticeable by then. “But these belong to that boy. We shall return them, don’t you think?” Mrs Fakude asked.

“Why are you saying that now?” he asked. Mr Fakude was so sure that he was to be rich. He wouldn’t risk giving them back.

“Look, baby. We can leave right at this very moment and find a new place. Start afresh, you know, and be happy. We can even remarry,” he implied, with a smile.

“But we’re close to dying. We are too old now. Be realistic, please,” she said with despair.

“OK. We will kill the boy and bury him, then sell this and be happy ever after. What do you say?” he asked.

It became mutual after a long haggle. They were in complete harmony.

“Take out my poniard from the drawer.”

They went to the room. They did the same thing, tiptoeing. Within that instant, Lokufa turned in his sleep, but he felt something. He opened his eyes, but was doomed by Mr Fakude as he jumped over him with a poniard, straight to his chest.

Lokufa jumped up and yelled for the last time. Dead. They took him down with sudden moves from the bed. He was gushing with blood.

“Don’t just stand there. Go fetch the sacks!” Mrs Fakude shrieked loudly.

Mr Fakude fetched the sacks while panicking. They put him inside cold like that. The corpse was ready to be ditched.

“Come, look at this.”

Mr Fakude was looking at an identity book of Lokufa. Mrs Fakude stopped mewling. She smeared off her flooding tears to clearly see this for herself.

“What could this be?” She continued crying, “Where is that from?”

“I found it in his luggage. See, there is his picture,” he cried too.

“No! This can’t be happening to me, Lord! What have I become to do such? Lord, is it your neediness you brought over this family?” she recklessly whimpered, bowing down with remorse.

“What have I done wrong to merit such a misery…” She didn’t finish.

There, still, she fainted next to the sacked cadaver. Mr Fakude’s debility became worse also.

“Elizabeth, do not you dare do that to me. Don’t.”

Mr Fakude jiggled her dead frame. Nonetheless, she couldn’t wake up. It was all a shambles.

“Son, oh, my dear one, forgive my hands for doing this…this to you. My…my prodig…” he shunned.

***

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