Jemaima waited patiently in the police reception to see Steve, her sister was outside waiting for her. Joan had refused to come in to see Steve. And as Jemaima stared Steve, tears tinged her eyes.
"Why do you come here to see me everytime?" Steve asked for the umpteenth time.
"Because I have to." Jemaima answered him.
"What about your mother, won't you find her?" Steve asked her.
"I...I miss you."
"Stop acting childish." He said irritatedly.
And as he sat before her, he saw tears in her eyes. But he overlooked that. "Next week, there will be a trial in court." He announced to her.
"I heard about it." She said.
"You were trying to bail me out?" He asked again.
"Yes," she nodded. "I worked for the money. I thought that would be best....,"
"Imy a wanted criminal and you know that. And you shouldn't use your money to bail me out." He told her.
"But you are barely twenty."
He looked away. He didn't want to argue with her. "Where is Joan?" He changed the subject.
"I'm surprise you asked after her. Aren't you mad at her?"
Steve smiled at that. "I should be mad at her but instead, I funnily feel at peace." He said.
Jemaima was dumbfounded.
"I guess she is outside." He said for her.
Jemaima nodded at that.
"I should get back." He stopped to look at her. "And don't come back." He warned.
"Why can't I?"
Steve stood up and looked to the direction where the rest of his gang were. Though, they were first captured, they blamed him for their predicament. They knew that he didn't kill Jemaima as they had told him.
Jemaima stood up. She tried desperately to understand him, to go through what was going through his mind but, it seemed difficult. "I will return." She told him.
"Don't, please." She begged him.
"You can't just stop my coming here." She said.
"If you do come here. I won't come out to see you."
She bit her lower lip as she watched him go, she fought back the anger to kick his buttocks. She finally had to drag her feet from the police station and walked back to her twin who was waiting for her.
Jemaima watched her sister. One will say Joan was much prettier than Jemaima. For Joan had packed her hair in bun, she wore a blue shirt sleeve shirt and a black short skirt. Jemaima as always loved dressing like a boy.
Her hair was black and cut short like a boy. Her eye lashes exposed her girl's features which Joan had none to boast of.
Jemaima loved long sleeved shirts as she wore a grey one over a brown trousers which looked faded.
"What in the world were you doing there?" Joan asked her sister.
Jemaima looked away. She didn't want to reply her. Joan caused all of this afterall. A boy above ten came running towards Jemaima.
"Good afternoon." The boy greeted.
"Yes?" Joan answered annoyingly.
"A Mr Steve sent me to you." The boy looked at them quite shyly.
"What for?" Joan asked him.
"He said you should be in court next week. A man named barrister James is your father." The boy relayed the message.
"Our father?" Both Jemaima and Jaon asked together.
"He's your mother's new husband." He explained.
"You told you to relay such message?" Joan asked the boy.
"One of the police was telling a woman who wanted all the criminal punished. Steve heard it and told me to relay the message."
"Thank you." Jemaima told him.
"What's there to thank? We don't even know this supposed Mr James who also bears our surname." Joan waved it off.
The young boy turned to look at Joan for the first time then walked away frowning at Joan's attitude.
"You should thank him at least, Joan. You should know how to talk." Jemaima reprimanded her sister's actions.
"Oh, so I don't know how to talk?" Joan's brows rose.
"What happened to you? You weren't like this before." Jemaima was walking away.
Joan scoffed and ignored her.
"Next week, we come down here to see the court we are meant to go."
"What for? I don't believe whatever Steve must have sent to us." Joan said.
"I believe we will get to see mum too." Jemaima told her.
"We don't even know this Mr James!"
"Then, we shall get to know. And we will see mum."
"How do you know that we will get to see mum? Don't talk me that you trust Steve?"
"Steve doesn't hate you. You shouldn't hate on him." Jemaima told her sister.
Joan laughed at that. "I should call that great." Joan raised both of her hands high in the air.
"Sooner or later, you will get to like Steve like I did."
Joan scoffed. "Never." She said.