She stopped at the door but didn’t turn around. “You made your choice, Seyi. You said it yourself, you did it for the PhD. Go and ask the Chief to sign your papers. Let’s see if he still wants to sponsor a ‘bastard’.”
She walked out and slammed the door.
My father turned to me, his eyes red. “Get out. Both of you. Before I call the police.”
”But Dad, I’m still your daughter in my heart!” I pleaded.
”I have no daughter,” he spat.
I looked at Bolatito. She was already on her phone, probably calling the real father of her baby. I was left with nothing, no mother, no father, no degree, and a conscience that would never be clean again.
Who was more wrong?
The Mother for lying about the children’s paternity for 25 years?
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