Sarfoa was extra quiet as she got ready for school. Dad told me to call him or send him a text when I woke up. He said he’d buy something for our lunch. In thirty minutes the house was quiet and I finally drifted off to sleep.

I woke up a little after 11 a.m. but I still felt tired. My head still ached, but it didn’t hurt as much as before. I took two more Paracetamol tablets and sent Dad a text saying I felt better. On my desk was a piece of paper with a brand new five cedi note on top of it.

Dear GYIKUA,

Daddy sed what I sed to you eleyer was not nice. I am reeli sori. I tenk you for teking ker of me now that Mummy is not here. And I am sori you fill seek. I don’t no what made me say that to you. You are the best sista in the hole wold. Your kleva and preti and kind and I am sory I made you fill sad. Plees asept my apologee. I no this wont make you fill kompleetly beta so you can take the money onit.

Your sista,
Maa Sarfoa

I couldn’t help laughing. I took a shower and went back to bed. This time I could make my mind go blank and I managed to drift off to sleep. I woke up later in the afternoon to find Dad and Sarfoa in the room. Dad asked if I’d eaten. I shook my head. He went downstairs to heat the takeout they’d bought. Sarfoa stood by my bed. She was still in her uniform.

“Thank you for your note.”

She put her hand in her pocket and brought out something wrapped in tissue paper.

“Today’s Afrakuma’s birthday. She brought a big cake to school. It was a chocolate cake with icing and sprinkles. I know you like chocolate cake so I didn’t eat all of mine.”

She peeled back the tissue paper from the crushed cake and held it out to me, “It’s a bit squished but it’s delicious.”

I don’t know where the tears came from but then I started crying and I couldn’t stop.

“Does it still hurt? Should I get Daddy?”

I shook my head and sobbed, “No, I just need a hug.”

She climbed into bed with me, hugged me and rubbed my back. “There, there, it’s all better now,” she said but that made me cry even harder because that was what Mom used to say anytime we cried over something and she gave us a hug.

Dad came in with a tray of steamed rice and shrimp sauce, one of my favourite dishes. He placed the tray on my desk and joined us on the bed, sitting between Sarfoa and me and huggini us both.

“What’s wrong with my girls?”

I couldn’t help it. I cried even harder.

“Dad’s girls” had once comprised Mom, Ntiriwa, Sarfoa and me, now it was just Sarfoa and me.

“I just wanted to give her some of Afrakuma’s cake and then she started crying,” Sarfoa said.

“Let it out, let it all out,” Dad whispered to me and so I did. I cried for him, for Sarfoa, for me, for us, for Mom, for Ntiriwa, for our family, for the friends I’d lost in school and for the person I’d become.

“I’m sorry I was mean to you yesterday,” I said to Sarfoa when I calmed down.

“It’s okay,” she said once more peeling tissue paper off the sticky chocolate cake.

“Chidi said you didn’t mean what you said. He said it was just because you were really sad.”

“Chidi said that?”

“Uh huh, yesterday when we went to his house. Here have some cake.”

I bit off a piece of the cake and let it melt in my mouth. “Are you sad because of Mummy and Ntiriwa?”

I nodded.

“Me too,” she said. “I miss them so much.”

“Me three,” Dad said, “but do you know what makes me feel better when I think of them?”

“That we’ll see Ntiriwa again in heaven? And that Mummy will come home one of these days?” Sarfoa asked licking chocolate icing off her fingers.

Her innocence, her total acceptance of and belief in what she had just said was painful for me to watch.

“Uh huh. But what really makes me feel better is that I have the two of you. You make me feel happy.”

Sarfoa put a piece of cake into Dad’s mouth and smiled. “You and Gyikua make me happy too.”

I couldn’t help it; I started crying once again.