Her father had said nothing but her mother had scolded her as if she was a kid. Everything she wanted to say fell into deaf hears. Her mother had just shouted and scolded more which angered her. None of it was her fault. That old woman had bumped into her car. Why will no one listen to her? She was the victim, the one the woman had beaten up. The woman left scars on her neck. It still stings. Nobody had said anything about that. Now, she had to use makeup and her hair to cover it up anytime she want to go out. She turned in bed, hugging her pillow to her head. The pillow smelt like her, feminine and seductive. Wanting to do something with her hand, she sat up, crossed her legs underneath her and got hold of her camera, Mac 6, which was on the bed. She picked the hand towel on her nightstand and proceeded to wipe the camera clean.

She had nine siblings, a father who was a senior advocate of Nigeria and one of Nigeria's richest and most influential men. Her mother owns one of the most expensive secondary schools in Lagos state, Abuja, Kaduna, Port Harcourt, Kano and Yola. The eldest of her siblings was Shola, thirty-one years of age, a successful lawyer who was married to Dolapo, with three adorable kids.

The second was Makinde, a successful car dealer, who export and import automobiles, married to Amarachi, with a kid and two years younger to Shola. Toke was the third, the jobless wife, who lives a lavish life depending solely on her husband's and parents' money, married to her childhood sweetheart, Nathan and still pregnant with their first child, a year younger to Makinde and three years younger to Shola. The fourth was Miracle, the computer engineer, who would soon leave the country for Baltimore to further his doctorate degree in electrical and computer engineering at John Hopkins.

She was the fifth, who had spent eleven years of her life in California due to many reasons and had returned back to Nigeria two years ago, two years younger to Miracle. Samson and Sarah were after her, twenty years of age and studies in Babcock University, Nigeria, both in their third year. Taiwo and Kehinde also known as Tenny and Kenny, identical female twins, seventeen years of age and in their final year in senior secondary school, attending British International School, Lagos. The youngest was Mofe, fifteen years of age first year in senior secondary school and attends the same school with Tenny and Kenny.

She swiped the lens, her Mac 6, sitting in her palm. She was like a proud swordsman who wiped the glinting blade of his sword with diligence and peace. The camera sat in the hand on the one who knows how to hold it, who got power from it, who emitted strength with it.

They had everything on a platter of gold. They were born with a silver spoon in their mouth. Their mother, Cynthia, had not deprived them of the love and attention they needed and had always been with them. Their father was a busy man so they hardly spend time with him but he was generous at heart when it comes to money. During Lola's stay in California, her mother had tried to visit whenever she could, just to see her and spend some time with her. What she disliked most was the fact that her parents' marriage had turn almost cold. This was due to many reasons she chose not to remember. They hurts and had left scars in everyone's heart.

Aside from the scars her parents' marriage had left caused, she had her own scars and pain and secret she hid from the world. She shut her eyes trying to push away memories that swamp in. The little creak of her room's door got her attention. She sat still on the queen size bed to see her mother walking into the deluxe room.

The colour of her room was neutral. Grey, white and black were colours of most of the items in her room. The floor was white, the bedpost, walls and other furniture were white except the armchair and sofas which were black Italian leather, her curtains grey. There was a flat screen television, the biggest size, opposite her bed with a home theatre and a big frame of her picture above her bed. The room was always cold with the air-conditioner always working. Her feminine scent each time, hangs in the clean air.

Cynthia was a woman in her mid-fifties, light skinned and chubby. Years of skin treatment, less stress and more money had made her look younger than her age. She had rosy cheeks and vibrant brown eyes. Her bob fell delicately with refinement down her round face towards her chin. Her lips, a pair of plump flesh, were pressed into a thin line. Lola put the camera away.

"What do you want?" she drawled out in an American accent giving her mother an angry look, the kind that tells Cynthia how much Lola disliked her scolding few hours back.

Irked a bit at the disrespectful voice and expression, Cynthia frowned then said with an irritated tone "Don't speak to me and look at me that way. I am your mother" She growled out as she settled down on the bed that had barely wrinkled when Lola laid on it.

Lola sulked. "I know you are here to preach to me about my behaviour but momma I swear to you, that woman was rude and unapologetic. She hit the car from behind and said it was my fault"

"And you hit her" Cynthia pointed out, her brown eyes looked at her daughter accusingly.

Lola rolled her eyes. "She deserved it" She gave an insouciant shrug.

"If should do what's on my mind Lola, you will be hopping on the bus for the next two weeks" Cynthia's voice became firmer. God! What sort of a daughter does she have? What she had expected when she walked into Lola room was an apology and remorseful look?

Lola let out a little laughter, pushing back stray strands of hair. "We both know you won't do that. Even though you would, dad will give me a car" She shrugged again then at the thought of riding in a public transport, little lines creased on her face. "Gosh mommy!" She screeched in that spoiled tone, getting to her feet. "You can't expect me" Lola pointed a manicured finger at her chest. "Aralola Kola-Daisi, to ride in a public transport" The notion made her grimace with more repulsion.

Cynthia stared at one of her brats. Lola will never be remorseful about what she had done because it felt right to her. It pains her so much that it was already too late to curb her daughter's razor tongue and obnoxious ways.

"Sit" it was an order from a mother to a child. Lola obeyed, folding her arms around her chest. "And don't sit that way, Aralola" Cynthia grinded out, a vein ticked in her forehead. Lola glanced at her mother's face. The obvious anger had her adjusting with an apology. Contented, Cynthia stretched out her hand to her daughter. A car key dangled from it. Light came into Lola similar brown eyes. When her eyes met her mother's unfriendly one, she pushed back the smile that was beginning to form on her lips before reaching for the key. "What you did today was unacceptable. I agree it might be you and that woman's fault but for no reason do you have to raise your hand against her. She is old enough to be my age mate. It's like someone of your age hitting me. How will you feel? You are lucky she did not file charges against you. If she had, you know the repercussion"

"We both know she can't mommy. We are in Nigeria and if she had, she will be dancing to the tunes of the police instead" She tapped an impatient foot on the marble floor.

Seductive round eyebrows went up. "You seems so confident about that"

Lola grinned. "We both know that's what will happen"

Cynthia sighed. "Lola, instead of apologising or taking things calmly like the child I had raised you to be, you had caused so much nuisance"

Lola gave an unsatisfied smile. "You are preaching to me like a two year old. I am not!" She scrunched her cute nose up.

"Listen to me young lady!" Cynthia barked. The unexpected outburst had her daughter jerking a bit. "It's either you pull yourself together and behave well or I promise you, Aralola, you will actually use the public transport for two weeks and nothing your father would say will make me listen to him. What's wrong with you? Why will I have a daughter who won't listen to me and can speak to me this way? I was speaking to you and you got guts to reply me" The thought fuelled Cynthia's anger. "I am your mother. Your mother" Cynthia emphasised. "And I asked for nothing but respect. You are not five years old to know you should be giving me that. You did wrong! You hit that woman! It was not right! You should be apologizing for visiting that police station again when it's barely a week from your last. I won't sit back and watch you act any how to me. You think you are too old for a slap. You know I can give you one when you deserve it. I don't mind how old you are!"

Lola lowered her head. Listening to the pain and disappointment in her mother's voice sent a pang of regret and guilt over her chest. "I am sorry" her voice cracked. This time, those words came out with sincerity.

"Good" Cynthia nodded.

"It won't happen again, mommy. Ema binu ma (I am sorry ma)"

"Now, since that's clear, the key in your hand is the key to my Lexus. Use that until your car arrives from the mechanic's workshop"

"Really mommy!" Her face lit up with a smile. The repentant look gone and replaced with delight. Cynthia gave a nod trying to fight the twitch at the corners of her lips. Lola let out a scream before throwing her hands over her mother's neck. "Thank you" she laughed. "God! I love you" She kissed her mother's cheeks.

Cynthia hugged her back with a laugh. "Oh how could I forget" she pulled away. "Your father is going to host an event tomorrow. He is celebrating something I did not get"

"Now, I can't wait for such events" Lola beamed. "Why are you just telling me now?" her lips twisted.

"Because he just told me. The preparations are being made. Don't worry about what to wear. I have made preparation for every one of you. Lilian is putting her best to it"

"Now, I just know I will be turning heads tomorrow" She grinned at the thought of been the centre of attention.

Cynthia smiled with motherly affection at her daughter. "Lolu will be there" her mother winked at her.

"Is he back to Lagos?"

"Yes, yesterday"

"And he did not call me to inform me" Lola's eyebrows creased with a little pout of her lips.

"I can't defend him on that" Cynthia shrugged. "His mother told me today when I called her"

"I am so going to skin him alive when I see him" Lola gritted.

"I have no hand in that" Cynthia raised her hands up. "Sort yourselves out. It's what you do most of the time. So, how did the shoot go?"

"Sukanmi said it went well" she exhaled. "I am glad. I thought I would lost that contract"

"You won't dear" her mother held her hand affectionately. "I prayed and fasted over it dear. I want to see your siblings before heading to bed. Good night"

"Good night. Sweet dreams. May the Lord protect us"

"Amen"

While her mother left the room, Lola laid back in bed ready to lash Lolu on phone. Lolu, her closest male friend of almost fifteen years. He was a childhood friend whom she had not lost contact with after she left Nigeria. Lolu left for Abuja few days ago and had refused to tell her he was back. She won't deny it but that got into her. He should have called. Lolu picked up after the first ring.

"Hey, baby girl" His husky voice came.

"Is this fair Lolu?" she asked, her voice harsh.

"Babe, did I do anything wrong?" His voice became defensive.

"So you are back and you have refused to inform me"

"Jesus! How did you know?" he responded alarmed.

"Mommy told me"

"You are not supposed to know" The words drove into her heart like a dagger leaving behind hurt and viscous red liquid to pool around. "I was meant to be a surprise when we meet at the party tomorrow" Lola's lips curved into a small smile with relieve washing through her.

"Oh but you should still have told me. That's not nice of you"

"You don't tell surprises Lola. Your mother should not have known. Who told her gan?"

"Your mother"

"My mum eh?" he chuckled. "After telling her not to tell anyone? I am sorry babe"

"You are not forgiven" she said as her mouth produced a wider smile. I could pull his legs, she thought with a wicked smile.

"Not over this, Lola"

"It is more than what you think even though it is little. You are not forgiven, Lolu"

"You can't do this now"

"I can in many ways and tonight, I am pissed at you. Have a good night rest" she ended the call.

A little giggle left her lips as she looked at the screen of her iPhone 7 plus. Well, that would make him plead and plead while she pulls his legs. Still beaming, Lola kept her phone aside, took her camera and got back to work.