04/07/2025
CHAPTER THIRTEEN: MOTHERS RISE, MONSTERS FALL, AND A BOY FINDS HIS SONG
The news hit Nairobi like thunder.
“BREAKING: Prominent businessman Jayson Mutua arrested for obstruction, abuse, and child endangerment.”
Photos of Jayson being escorted into a police car flooded social media. Some showed him still trying to smirk. Others caught the panic in his eyes.
The hashtags trended within hours.
Jayson Mutua wasn’t just in handcuffs.
He was finished.
FLASHBACK: MEDIA STORM
Patricia sat in a live TV interview, flanked by Njeri and Phoebe. Her hands trembled only slightly, but her voice?
Iron-clad.
“I survived. And I stayed quiet for years. But silence is a luxury women like me can no longer afford.”
She told her story.
The manipulation. The threats. The night she ran. How she hid. How she healed.
She didn’t cry.
But everyone watching did.
Even the cameraman.
CLARION AND HER SON — THE FIRST WEEK
His name was Liam.
And for the first time in seven years, he slept in her house — in a room decorated with love, cartoon bedsheets, and a superhero night lamp Polar found in Toi Market.
Clarion tried not to overwhelm him.
But every time he said “Mom,” she cried a little inside.
And then… one night…
She found him staring out the window, humming a tune.
“You okay, baby?” she asked softly.
“Yeah… just thinking.”
“About what?”
“Dad used to say… crying is weak. But I saw you cry… and you’re not weak.”
Clarion knelt beside him.
“Crying isn’t weakness, Liam. It’s the heart's way of breathing.”
He leaned on her shoulder.
That night, he cried for the first time — for real.
No shame.
No fear.
AKUBASU’S DECISION
He stood at Clarion’s door, a duffel bag slung over his shoulder.
“You’re leaving?” she asked.
“Just for a while. He needs you more than me right now.”
“You’re his father.”
“And I’ll always be. But I won’t fight for a spotlight in his life. I want to *earn* it. Let me start from the outside… and work my way back in.”
He kissed her forehead.
Left a wrapped box on the table. Inside was a small bracelet.
“To Liam. From a man learning to be a father.”
KARANJA’S FINAL NOTE
Clarion found a letter on her doorstep.
In Karanja’s familiar, neat handwriting.
“I loved you from the day we shared a plate of chips mwitu in college. But I love you enough to walk away. Your heart has scars… and a fire. I don’t want to tame it. I want it to burn bright — even if I can’t stand beside it. I’ll be okay. I always was. — K.”
No goodbye.
Just that.
And he was gone.
AT THE POLICE STATION
Jayson sat in silence. No suit. No Rolex. Just prison grey and the weight of his own ego.
His lawyer entered, sweating.
“There’s a deal. Reduced sentence if you confess to everything.”
Jayson looked up.
“They won’t believe me.”
“They already do.”
LATER THAT WEEK — A NEW BEGINNING
Clarion sat in the courtroom again — not for battle, but for final papers.
Full legal custody.
Signed.
Stamped.
Done.
Outside the court, Phoebe, Patricia, Polar, and Irene stood like the most dangerous sisterhood Nairobi had ever produced.
They cheered. Laughed. Threw petals. Took selfies.
Even Njeri, the iron lady, cracked a smile.
Clarion looked at her boy — laughing, running, whole.
And whispered, “We’re free, baby.”
.......
