Her Stepmother Pushed Her Off a Mountain So Her Own Daughter Could Marry a Billionaire

Above her, Agnes and Isidora peered into the mist.

“She is gone,” Agnes said, wiping her hands. “The rocks have finished her.”

“What if Father asks?” Isidora whispered.

“We will say she ran away before the wedding. And now come—we have a wedding to prepare for.”

They descended the mountain, leaving Sarah broken among the rocks.

But she was not dead.

Deep in her chest, her heart still beat.

At dawn, Sarah woke in pain. Her arm was broken, her ribs bruised, her dress torn and stained with blood. She tried to sit up and nearly fainted.

Then she heard a whistle. Heavy boots approached. Two mountain hunters appeared on a nearby path—rugged men in animal skins carrying long spears.

The younger one, Kojo, gasped.
“It’s a girl—a bride by the look of her dress. How did she get down there?”

“By falling,” said the older hunter, Bram, whose beard was white as mist. “And only a miracle kept her alive.”

Without hesitation, Bram tied a leather rope to a mountain shrub and lowered himself down to her ledge.

“Easy, little bird,” he said when she flinched. “We are not the ones who hurt you. We are the ones who will carry you home.”

He wrapped her in a warm leopard skin and tied her securely to his back. With Kojo pulling from above, they brought her to safety.

They did not return her to Omio.

“If we take her there now,” Bram told Kojo, “whoever pushed her will only finish the job.”

So they carried her to their hidden cave high in the mountain and tended her wounds.

Back in Omio, the wedding proceeded.

John stood in the compound full of dread.
“How can Sarah be gone?” he asked. “She was so happy. Why would she run away?”

Agnes placed a hand on his shoulder and lied with practiced ease.
“You know how girls are. The thought of the city frightened her. But the wedding cannot stop. Mr. Okafor is a powerful man. If we tell him the bride is gone, he will demand the bride price back. He may even punish us.”

“What can we do?” John asked weakly.

“We have Isidora,” Agnes said. “She is about the same height. We will cover her face with the bridal veil. The trader will not know the difference.”

John knew it was wrong. But he was a man who hated conflict more than he loved truth.

And so Isidora dressed in Sarah’s wedding clothes. Beneath the heavy veil, she hid her face and her greed.

Mr. Okafor arrived, glanced at the silent bride, and accepted her without question. Agnes lied again, claiming that the girl had taken a vow of silence until she reached her husband’s home.

The drums beat. The villagers cheered. And Isidora rode away in the trader’s carriage, believing she was on her way to luxury.

She was not.