The hall was thick with tension.
Mrs. Nneka stood tall before the group, her palms clasped gently in front of her like a seasoned judge. Her sharp eyes scanned every face in the room — reading the silence before the storm.
"We're here because something terrible happened," she began, her voice calm and steady. "A young girl was stabbed. Blood was shed. There was confusion, accusation… and shame. Today, we find out the truth."
She turned to Tonia.
"My dear, please tell us what happened. From the beginning."
Tonia sat up straighter. She could feel her mother's trembling hand on her back and Stanley's silent strength beside her. Despite the pain in her body, she spoke clearly.
"I went to the market to buy ogbono from Aunty Joy. I was pricing it when Mercy came up behind me with a bowl of garri. I stepped aside for her to pass, but she dropped the bowl herself and blamed me. I told her not to lie, and I left."
She paused, her throat tight.
"As I was walking away… I felt something sharp in my back. Her mother stabbed me with a broken bottle."
Gasps echoed around the room. Her mother began to cry softly again.
"I didn't fight them. I didn't shout. I just ran."
Tonia stopped. Her voice had started to tremble.
Mrs. Nneka gave her a small, reassuring nod, then turned to Mercy. "Now, you. What happened?"
Mercy folded her arms tightly. "She pushed me. I told her to apologize, and she started shouting. That's why my mum got angry."
Tonia looked at her, stunned.
"You're lying," Stanley muttered under his breath, but Mrs. Nneka raised a hand.
"I expected different stories. That's why I invited someone else."
All heads turned as Aunty Joy stepped forward, her handbag still looped on her shoulder. She cleared her throat and looked straight at Mrs. Nneka.
"I was there," she said. "From start to finish. Tonia didn't push that girl. I was the one handing her the ogbono when Mercy spilled the garri. I saw Mercy remove her hand from the bowl on purpose."
Mercy's mother flinched. Mercy sat up straighter, suddenly pale.
"And I saw you, madam," Aunty Joy added, turning sharply toward Mercy's mother. "I saw you take the bottle. I even shouted for you to stop, but it was too late. You stabbed that girl like she was your enemy."
The room fell completely silent.
All eyes turned to Mercy.
For a long moment, she said nothing.
Then, slowly, she looked at her mother — then at the floor.
"…I was angry at her," she mumbled. "That's why I did it."
Mrs. Nneka leaned forward. "Angry? Why?"
Mercy shrugged. "I just don't like her. I don't know why. I just hate her."
The room reacted instantly.
"What kind of reason is that?" someone whispered.
Her mother covered her face in shame.
Stanley shot up from his chair, his voice sharp. "You hate her for what? Did she ever speak to you? Insult you?"
Mercy's voice cracked. "No. I just… I don't know. She always looks so perfect. Always walking like she owns the ground. Even now with all that dressing, she looks better than everyone else!"
All heads turned to Tonia, who sat in a simple blouse and jeans, her hair in a neat puff, her skin still glowing despite the wound.
"She's jealous," Stanley said with disgust. "That's all this is. Pure envy."
And then came a voice from the back.
"She's not the only one."
Everyone turned.
It was Henry.
"I've said it before," he said casually, leaning forward. "Tonia thinks she's too fine. Even when we were together, she dressed too much for someone in a poor economy."
Stanley turned slowly, his voice like thunder. "Excuse me?"
Mrs. Nneka frowned. "Young man, who invited you to speak?"
"I'm just saying the truth," Henry said, standing now. "All the boys were watching her. She was acting like some queen."
Mrs. Nneka folded her arms. "And why exactly did you break up with her?"
Henry gave a careless shrug. "Because she had too much attention. I couldn't handle it."
Someone in the room chuckled. Another scoffed.
"You sound insecure," one woman said.
"You left her because you were scared of her beauty?" another added.
"Abeg leave this meeting," an elder muttered from the corner.
Henry froze, stunned. But Mrs. Nneka nodded to an usher, who gently guided him to the door.
As he left, he glanced at Tonia — but her face was calm. Untouched. Unbothered.
She had already risen above him.
Mrs. Nneka looked around the room once more.
"I think we've heard enough."