At another end in the city, in the heart of its oldest district, the famous Church of the Holy Father stood dressed in white roses and golden ribbons. Inside, a hundred or more guests murmured softly among polished pews, waiting for the ceremony to begin.
But none of them noticed the young woman stepping in from the sunlight, her heels tapping sharply against the stone floor.
She was petite, yet there was nothing small about her presence. Her dark chocolate eyes blazed with fire, framed by thick, bouncy curls that fell across her shoulders. As she walked, she didn't slow, not even when she reached the aisle that led straight to the altar.
And there he was. The groom. Dressed in a sleek grey tuxedo, smiling nervously at the crowd.
"How dare you!" Her voice rang through the church like a crack of thunder.
Gasps erupted. All heads turned. The groom's expression froze. His eyes locked with hers, his spine stiffened, his throat bobbed.
"Esther?" he whispered.
She didn't stop. She marched forward, her fury as sharp as her stride.
"You bastard!" she spat.
Abu's shoulders slumped, his hands clenched. Of all people, of all times, it had to be now.
Esther had been gone for just one week on a school project. A brief absence. She'd returned home to chaos, to whispers, pity, and a sister curled into herself in heartbreak. Her elder sister, Zianab, the woman who had loved Abu for seven long years. The same woman he had proposed to. And now? Now, he was marrying someone else, without warning, without explanation.
And Esther wasn't going to let it slide.
"You broke up with my sister through a text," she said, voice trembling with restrained rage. "After seven years. Seven years, Abu! You were supposed to be married next week!"
The bride turned, her expression blank with confusion. She was young, barely out of her teens, by the look of her. Wide eyes blinked between Esther and the man beside her.
"Who is she?" she asked softly.
"I'm the sister of the woman he betrayed," Esther answered coldly, her eyes not leaving Abu's. "My sister clothed him, fed him, supported him. She believed in him. And this is how he repays her?"
"This is not the time or place," Abu muttered, glancing at the guests who now stared in awkward silence.
"Oh no?" Esther barked. "What's the matter? Don't want them to know the truth?"
Abu inhaled sharply. "Your sister and I are over. I fell out of love. I've moved on. This is my wedding day, and you're making a scene."
"A scene?" Esther laughed bitterly. "You don't get to call this a scene when you're the villain in the story."
Her voice rose, full and clear. "Everyone, please listen! This man here, Abu, was engaged to my sister. Their wedding was scheduled for next week. But yesterday, he sent a single text ending it. No explanation. And today? He's marrying someone else. A richer, younger woman."
"Security," Abu snapped, panic in his voice.
"Oh, I'm not done," Esther hissed, turning to the crowd. "For seven years, my sister took care of him. Paid his bills. Helped him get through school. He lived off her like a parasite. And now, because he has napped a bigger fish it no longer convenient, he trades her in for this young girl who doesn't even know the kind of man she's marrying."
"That's enough!" Abu's face turned red with rage. "Your sister is old! She's in her thirties. Do you honestly expect any man to marry a woman like that?. Women like her are left overs in society"
Silence.
Then came the slap.
It cracked through the air like a gunshot, silencing even the murmurs. Abu's head jerked sideways. Esther's hand lingered in the air for just a moment before she launched forward, fists flying.
Guests screamed. Someone shouted. A chair clattered to the floor as Abu stumbled backward, shielding his face.
Esther didn't stop. She tore through the decorations, ribbons ripped, petals scattered, and candles fell to the ground. Then, with a deep breath, she turned toward the wedding cake, a massive three-tiered masterpiece, and shoved her fist through it.
Security rushed forward, too late to stop the chaos.
"SECURITY!" Abu screamed again, face covered in frosting and fury.
Two guards grabbed her from behind, dragging her kicking and yelling through the aisle as the crowd parted in stunned silence.
The van was cold. The silence louder than any siren.
Esther sat in the back, wrists aching from the cuffs, her dress stained with crumbs and sugar. Still, she smiled.
She had ruined it. Completely. Publicly. And no apology would fix what she'd done. Good. That was the point.
Hours later, in a dimly lit police station, she was tossed into a holding cell with three other women. Her head rested against the concrete wall as she closed her eyes.
Until she heard the voice.
"Hello, sir. I'm here to see Esther Cole."
Her eyes opened.
Zianab stood at the front desk, tall and elegant in a golden dress that shimmered against her deep brown skin. Her dark eyes held the calm of a storm waiting to break.
"You are?" asked the officer, flipping through a file.
"Zianab. Her sister. I received a call about her arrest."
Esther watched quietly. She could feel the weight of Zianab's disappointment from across the room. Her sister had always been the gentle one, the patient one. And now, here she was, forced to clean up a mess she never asked for.
"Your sister assaulted a man and destroyed private property," the inspector said flatly. "Right now, she's being held accountable for her actions."
"Can I bail her out?" Zianab asked.
"That's not possible. Not without a court order. She's offended powerful people, and they've made it clear, they want her to stay locked up."
Esther raised an eyebrow. From the inspector's tone, it was clear he'd been heavily paid to turn a blind eye. Still, she didn't care. She could sleep in a jail cell for all it was worth. She'd ruined their wedding. She'd said what needed to be said. That was the satisfaction she sought,and she had no regrets.
"Can I have a word with the victim, please" Zianab requested , the inspector with no halt complied with a grab of his phone and second of talk.
"They agree , the should be here in an hour." The inspector inform with a drop of his phone on the table
The police station was quieter now, the sun casting long shadows across the tiled floor. Esther sat in a waiting area, bruised in pride but strangely calm. Somewhere inside, she knew Zianab wasn't just here to bail her out. No, her sister was building a case, or dismantling one.
Moments later, the double doors swung open. In walked Abu, still wearing remnants of his ruined wedding attire. His jaw was tight, his posture aggressive. But beside him was his bride, Amira Danjuma, the daughter of one of the most powerful politicians in the country. She wore a cream shawl over her wedding dress, her face pale, eyes wary.
Zianab stood when they entered. She offered no greeting.
"Thank you for agreeing to speak," she said to Amira. Then she turned to Abu. "You, I didn't invite. But since you're here, let's get this over with."
Abu scoffed. "I came to press charges. I want that lunatic behind bars."
"Careful," Zianab warned quietly. "The moment this goes to court, so does your history."
Amira shifted. "What do you mean?"
Zianab didn't blink. "I'm a lawyer. If this becomes a criminal case, my sister will have her day in court. And during that time, every single detail of your fiancé's relationship with me will come to light. Seven years. Engagement. Financial support. Everything. Imagine the bills that would pile your desk"
Abu turned sharply to Amira. "She's bluffing."
"I don't bluff," Zianab replied, eyes never leaving the bride. "Your name will be in headlines by sunrise. You'll be the girl who broke a woman's engagement and married a man who was being fed by another family for almost a decade. And your father, Madam Danjuma… is he ready for that?"
Amira's lips parted, her face turning stone cold.
"This was supposed to be a clean wedding," Zianab continued. "I understand. You didn't know. But now that you do, are you really going to gamble your reputation on him?"
Amira looked at Abu. "Is it true?"
"Zianab is twisting things," Abu stammered.
"Is it true?" she repeated, her voice sharper.
He hesitated. That was enough.
"I'll speak with my father's lawyer," Amira said, quietly but clearly. "We'll drop all charges. Esther will walk free. And this will never make the news."
"What? No!" Abu snapped. "She ruined our wedding! She assaulted me in public.."
"She saved me," Amira cut in, suddenly fierce. "From marrying a man with a hidden past and no shame in deception. And if you insist on pushing this, Abu, I swear I'll walk away. I won't be your wife, and I'll make sure my father cuts every tie your sorry name clings to."
Silence.
Zianab stood taller. "Thank you, Miss Danjuma. I'll expect the paperwork by morning."
The bride nodded once and turned to leave, her heels echoing with quiet rage.
Abu stared at Zianab, eyes full of contempt. "You think you've won?"
"No," Zianab replied. "I don't need to win. I just make sure justice is served."
She walked away without another word, gathering her sister from the bench.
Outside, as the cool air brushed against their skin, Esther finally spoke.
"You didn't have to do that."
Zianab gave a tired smile. "I didn't do it for you. I did it because I wanted him to know exactly what he lost."
Esther nodded. Though she didn't fully understand her sister's calm resolve, she knew one thing for certain, Zianab was a fighter. The kind that wielded words like weapons and fought battles with grace.
"And Esther," Zianab added, her voice soft but firm, "next time, think before you act. A record like this could shadow your future."
Esther gave a lopsided grin, already familiar with that tone. "That's why I have you," she teased. Then her expression grew more serious. "I'm heading to my part-time job. Please, whatever you do, don't tell Mom about any of this. She'll skin me alive, emotionally."
Zianab chuckled, shaking her head. "I won't make any promises. You know how she gets."
"Exactly why I'm asking," Esther muttered with a mock scowl.
Zianab gave her a playful wink before sliding into the waiting cab. "Stay out of trouble. I've got a courtroom to conquer."
Esther waved her off, then turned on her heel, sighing deeply as she adjusted the strap of her backpack.
"Next stop… Lovet Academy," she murmured to herself.
By the time the bus rumbled to a halt, Esther had already tucked the morning's chaos into the back of her mind. The familiar gates of Lovet Academy stood tall before her, an institution for children with special needs, where she worked part-time as an assistant tutor. As she stepped into the school grounds, the echo of laughter and the hum of life welcomed her back to something real. Something that mattered.