YOU BELONG TO ME AND I WONT LET YOU GO EASILY

The old man stepped forward, his arms outstretched. "My granddaughter," he said, pulling her into a tight embrace. "You have been through so much. Come inside, my child. You are safe now."Omotolani allowed herself to be led inside, her body wracked with sobs. The house was warm and inviting, the smell of spices and cooking wafting through the air.As she sat down on a worn couch, the old man's wife appeared, her face etched with concern. "Omotolani," she said, her voice soft and gentle.

The old woman, Iya Ogunleye, knelt down in front of Omotolani, taking her hands in her own. "Tell us what happened, my child," she said. "Tell us why you have come to us after all this time."Omotolani took a deep breath, her heart thudding in her chest. "My mother," she began, the words like poison on her tongue. "She... she lied to me. She told me that my father's family didn't want anything to do with me. That you didn't care."

The old woman squeezed Omotolani's hands, her eyes filling with tears. "We tried to find you," she said, her voice trembling. "Your mother told us you were in school, that you didn't want to speak to us. We didn't know the truth, my child. We would have taken you in, if we had known."Omotolani felt a deep ache in her chest, a pain that she had carried with her for so long. "I know," she whispered. "I'm sorry I didn't reach out sooner."

The old man, Chief Ogunleye, pulled up a chair and sat down next to his wife. "There is nothing to be sorry for," he said, his voice firm and reassuring. "Your mother poisoned your mind against us, but you are here now. That is all that matters."Omotolani nodded, wiping away her tears. "I don't know what to do," she said, her voice small and frightened. "I've run away from my mother, but I don't know where to go from here."The old woman smiled, her face a picture of compassion.

"You are not alone, my child," Iya Ogunleye said, squeezing Omotolani's hands. "You have a family here, one that will love and support you, no matter what."Chief Ogunleye nodded, his face grave. "Your mother is a dangerous woman," he said, his voice serious. "She is not someone you should trust or rely on. But we will do everything in our power to keep you safe from her."Omotolani looked up, hope blooming in her chest like a flower. "You mean... I can stay here?"

The old woman nodded, a smile lighting up her face. "You can stay here as long as you need," she said. "This is your home now. We will help you heal and start a new life, far away from your mother's lies and cruelty."Chief Ogunleye reached out and patted Omotolani's knee, his eyes shining with pride. "You are strong, my granddaughter," he said. "You have survived things that would break a lesser person. You will find your way in this world. I have no doubt."

In the coming days, Omotolani found herself slowly settling into her new life with her grandparents. She helped Iya Ogunleye in the kitchen, learning the recipes and techniques that had been passed down through generations of their family. And she spent time with Chief Ogunleye, listening to his stories of the village's history, of their ancestors who had fought for their freedom and built a community of strength and resilience.As the weeks passed, Omotolani began to feel a sense of peace and contentment that she had never known before.

But even as Omotolani found happiness with her grandparents, a shadow hung over her. Every day, she waited for the moment when her mother would come for her, when the veil of safety would be ripped away and she would be forced to face the demons of her past.And then, one morning, a letter arrived in the mail. Omotolani's hands shook as she opened it, recognizing the sloping script of her mother's handwriting.

The letter was short, but the words were like knives to Omotolani's heart:"My daughter,I know that you are with your father's family now. I also know that they have been filling your head with lies about me. But remember, you are my blood. You belong to me. And I will not let you go so easily.Yours truly,Your Mother."Omotolani read the letter over and over again, the words blurring together like paint on a canvas.

Omotolani sat at the kitchen table, the letter crumpled in her shaking hands. She looked up at her grandparents, her eyes filled with fear and confusion. "What do we do?" she whispered.

But Iya Ogunleye, her face a picture of concern, shook her head.

Iya Ogunleye shook her head, her face creased with worry. "It will not be so easy," she said, her voice gentle but firm. "Your mother is a cunning woman. She will find a way to get to you, even if we do everything in our power to stop her."Omotolani felt her heart sink, her hands turning cold. "What can we do, then?" she asked, her voice small and frightened.Chief Ogunleye placed a hand on her shoulder, his eyes filled with resolve. "We must be smarter than her," he said.

Iya Ogunleye frowned, her mind racing with possibilities. "It will not be easy to protect you, my child, especially in the city," she said, a hint of fear in her voice. "Your mother knows this place like the back of her hand. She can blend in, hide in the shadows."Omotolani bit her lip, her heart racing. "Is there anything we can do?" she asked, her voice desperate.Chief Ogunleye nodded, his face grave.

"We must be proactive," Chief Ogunleye said, his eyes narrowed in thought. "We must find a way to draw your mother out into the open, to expose her for who she truly is. And I have an idea of how we might do that."Omotolani leaned forward, her pulse quickening. "What is it?" she asked, her voice barely a whisper.Chief Ogunleye reached into his pocket and pulled out a small, black object. It was a phone. "With this," he said, "we will lure her out."