|Chapter 3|

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Presently.

“Arrggh!” I scream, my voice ringing out, taking over the entire room.

Mr. Interrogator withdraws the hot coal-iron from my thigh and yells in my face. “Tell me why you killed him!”

I pant slowly, feeling exhausted from all the torture.

“Answer me!” He presses the iron onto my thigh for the third time. I scream out again, and when he withdraws the hot iron, I give him a deadly glare. He hits me hard across the face, and I cough. “How dare you look at me that way. You murderer. Tell me why you killed Mr. Nathaniel Adichie or I kill you myself.”

I shake my head, too exhausted to speak. He reaches down and presses his thumb onto my wound. “Please! Please stop!” I shout.

“Then tell me why! Why did you kill Mr. Nathaniel Adichie?”

“I . . . I didn't. I didn't kill him.” Snot and tears running down my face.

He bends over to my face. “You're lying,” he says. “Why are you lying? Just say the truth and we'll eventually let you go. Don't you want to leave this place? Don't you want all these torturing to end? Aren't you tired of it?”

I nod my head slowly.

“That's good. So, tell me why you killed Mr. Nathaniel?”

“I didn't . . . I didn't murder him. I-I swear. I swear on my life I didn't kill my husband—arrggh!” I scream as he presses his thumb onto my wound again. Blood streaming down my thigh. “Please stop! Stop it, I beg you, stop!”

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