MUMMY! IS HE MY DADDY?

Climbing the stairs, Hazel hesitated at the entrance of the library. A knot tightened in her stomach, a familiar reaction to her husband's unpredictable moods. She stood motionless in the hallway, attempting to compose herself. Taking a deep breath, she knocked firmly on the door. The sound echoed through the silent corridor, met only by more silence. Undeterred, she knocked again, and then again.

Her shoulders sagged as she turned to leave, the weight of anticipation heavy on her.

"Who the hell is that?!" The voice thundered from within, with irritation.

"Dinner is served," Hazel called out, her voice tinged with nervousness.

"Fine!" The dismissal came swiftly, leaving Hazel with a mixture of relief and apprehension.

Descending to the dining area, Hazel perched on a chair, eyes fixed on the doorway. The minutes stretched, and her mind raced with thoughts of her husband's imminent arrival.

~~~~~~~

Inside the library •••

He sat back on a huge chair, tapping one hand on the table impatiently. His dark eyes remained fixed on the phone lying before him, conscious that dinner was ready twenty minutes ago.

A call came in---

He declined it---

"Dammit" his palm slapped the table. This was the third time he had declined his big boss call. Knowing what he was calling for, isn't ready. How long would it take his henchmen to deliver the parcel he sent them for?---

~~~~~~

In the dinning room, Hazel was staring at the beef. Should she or should she not send it back to the kitchen to be kept warm?

If her husband was going to be much longer it would be cold and he would hate it. But again, if she sent it back there would be delay. And he was always impatient.

"But surely you knew I was just coming!"

He would always nag her. They had been married for eight months, she has lived with him since she was twenty. And she dreaded the fact that, whenever she was near him her mind oscillated to and fro, whether he was pleased with the way she stood, talked or ate.

Hazel had adored him the numerous times he came to their house to discuss with her father. She will hide behind the curtain, and admire the his sharply curved face, heart shaped lips, and the deep dark eyes she hope would gaze at her even for a second.

Her joy knew no bound, the day her father broke the news to her that she would be living with her crush. She spent the entire day gazing out window, waiting for him. The moment she sighted his car, she ran out and embraced him. Surprisingly, he returned the hug, and escorted her to his car, where she sat in the front. She sat inside the car and saw her dad sign some papers, she didn't bother asking because to her she had won. When he got into the car, he smiled at her

"I'll look after you, he said nicely, don't worry about things I'll take care of you" he smiled a very attractive smile. she ducked shyly. All the girls in the community will go green with envy. Hazel felt on top of the world.

But that didn't last long as few months after, nothing she did seemed to please him, nothing she did was right. Matter of fact, she irritated him. Sooner, he made it clear to her that, all her right belonged to him. She had no say for herself. And she had to right to object to him.

The beef! Her thoughts came back, still no sign of her husband. She felt a sharp pain through both her temples. Now she was going to have head ache. And how it annoyed her husband. He would only care less.

Instead he always said, "think less. No use poisoning yourself with drugs" And that was it. Tears of self-pity sprang to her eyes. Three months after she stepped a foot in this house, she has never been happy.

BANG! Hazel startled. It was the door of the library. He came down the stairs bringing his own intense energy.

"How I hate everybody!, he exclaimed as he sat down and picked the carving knife.

"Oh, don't be silly!" Hazel laughed gently, in a bid to ease the tension

"Geez, this is stone cold!. Why on earth didn't you send it to the kitchen to be kept hot?!"

"Well, dear I didn't know. She blinked fearfully, you see I thought you were just coming, so ----"

"Sammy!" He shouted the butler's name irritably

"Yes sir", the middle aged man, appeared immediately and retrieved the beef

"Am so, sorry dear, it's all my fault, you see I thought you were coming immediately---"

He interrupted her impatiently, "Oh what does it matter? It's not worth making a song about. Gosh, can you shut up already!"

"Am sorry" she apologized ---

Suddenly his phone rang, seeing it was the call he had been expecting. He picked it up---

[Could you tell me what the hell has kept you guys!? If I loose my job, you're all loosing your heads] He thundered

[What?! A frown enveloped his face, stay right there am coming]

With that he hung up.

"Bernard!" He called the driver, as he took his coat from the hanger

"Where are you going? We haven't had dinner yet" Hazel called him back

"I'll be back soon" he replied not looking back

"Okay. what right did she have to question him, alright I'll be waiting for you so we could have dinner toget---" he shut the door before she could finish

"Ma'am should I bring the beef?" Sammy asked from the kitchen area

"No need" she replied him

How long could she continue living like this?

••••••••

In the heart of Mariama, a deserted community,it was four hours to midnight, the evening was chilly and the crescent moon gave little light to earth. Dark-colored vehicles rolled into the empty streets.

The convoy came to a halt in front a street, with ash colored houses. In a swift motion, the lead door swung open, and a figure bowed, and opened the door for the occupant at the back. Expensive shoes met the ground as the regime leader, Carl emerged. He wore a dark leather suit and a brown trousers. The black shirt was open revealing his smooth chest. His dark sunshade perched on his perfectly shaped nose, as his dark hooded eyes immediately began surveying the surroundings.

"Douglas!" Carl called out to his right-hand man. "You sure this is the street?"

A huge figure with blue eyes, Douglas, assured, "Very certain, sir."

"Why is it so quiet here?" Carl's stern expression deepened as he frowned his wrinkled his handsome face

"Am not su-"

"Whatever, let's begin our work. Assemble your men," he cut Douglas short, the command echoing through the empty streets.

Douglas barked orders to his men, commanding them to surround the houses, ensuring no one was to leave until they were done collecting the tax

"Marshal, Douglas, Oliver, with me," Carl commanded with authority. "We'll start with this house. The rest of you, secure the perimeter."

This is strange" Oliver declared as they were approaching the house. The entire atmosphere was unusually quiet. Even though the hour was late. The Mariama community was always busy, up until midnight hours.

The air thickened with tension as they neared the door. As they entered the house, a flickering candlelight perched on a stool was what provided light to the house.

Carl's piercing gaze swept across the room, his eyes narrowing as he discovered the house was empty .

"Am I some sort of joke to you guys?" Carl's voice shattered the silence.

"N-No, sir," stammered Marshal, glancing around in surprise.

The tension grew thicker as Matthew, the head of security, rushed in, breathless. "Sir, the entire community seems deserted. No one is here."

"How is that possible?" Douglas asked, bewildered.

The silence stretched, suffocating everyone in the room. Carl wore a stern face as he stood silent, digesting the event.

Suddenly, the back door creaked open, and a middle-aged man appeared with an oil lamp in hand. Fear etched his face as he stammered, "M.. Mr. Carl, I didn't expect to see you here."

"Well, well, well. Seems the community isn't deserted after all," Carl sneered as he walked towards him "Mr. Gideon,he placed both his palm on his shoulder we're going to have a long night."

.

.

~~~~~~~

The atmosphere in the room became stiff as Carl escorted Mr. Gideon into the living room. "Sit," he motioned, revealing a callous disregard for the man's fear.

Mr Gideon, trembled as he leaned over to seat on the cushion. "No Sir, Carl stopped him and fiercely pushed him away then sat on the cushion. I said you should sit anywhere but not here.

"Where should I sit?" The old man asked innocently

"I don't know, anywhere. How about, yes Sit on the floor," Carl suggested, showcasing his disdain.

"Wh-what?" Mr. Gideon's eyes widened in shock.

"Go on, we don't have all day, so sorry all night," Carl grinned as he took a cigarette from his coat and lit it. C'mon, sir, I'm way past my dinner time." He groaned gazing at the man

The room echoed with the tense silence as Mr. Gideon hesitated.

"We don't always have to do things the hard way" he shrugged as he motioned his men, they men intervened, forcefully seating him on the floor.

"Cool, huh?" Carl sneered. "Now, let's begin. He took a deep breath, Where is everyone?"

I don't know" He replied without lifting his face

"Am not gonna ask in a nice manner again. Where is everyone?" His tone became firm

"I don't know" his voice was shaky

"Stubborn huh! Well that aside, where is it?" Carl demanded, you owe me tax of five months"

"Am..am doing my best, sir. Times have been tough. We barely have enough to feed our children, let alone pay the taxes."

Carl's disappointment and fury ignited. "Your best is not good enough. You think I care about your hardships?"

Marshal, stepped forward, his voice laced with malice. "Maybe a little demonstration will help him understand, boss," he suggested, a sadistic grin spreading across his face.

Douglas, nodded in agreement. "We've been here in several occasions, they blantly chose not to pay"

Oliver, stood by his side, his eyes gleaming with a sadistic anticipation. He cracked his knuckles, a chilling sound that sent shivers down Mr Gideon's spine "Proceeding on your authority sir"

A sly smile played on Carl's beautiful lips "I won't ask again" Carl's voice was calm yet threatening

Mr Gideon remained silent, as chill sweat rolled down his spine. As Marshal made a fist and was about to inflict pain on his frail figure. He trembled and began speaking...

"Am so sorry, he bawled, Someone informed the community that you will be coming with your henchmen to collect the tax and rent. So they all fled away" his frail frame trembled as he spoke

Carl, seething with anger, demanded to know the betrayer. The revelation hung in the air, setting the stage for a night fraught with revenge, secrets, and the impending return of the top boss-a story that Mariama couldn't escape, unfolding beneath the enigmatic moonlit sky.

.

Carl's fury ignited as he stood up from the cushion. "What! Who the hell betrayed me!?" He looked at his men, a fiery determination in his eyes. Gazing at Mr. Gideon, he demanded, "Where are they now?" He demanded

"About that, I honestly don't have any idea. That's why I returned," Mr. Gideon spoke honestly, his fear palpable.

Carl couldn't believe his ears. One of his own had sold them out. So he would return to big boss without the rent and tax from his community. He was at the verge of loosing his job and house.

He glared at his men, he yanked one of them forward then kicked him. Still angry he dove at him like a wild animal. Using both fist on his face. Marshal looked at Oliver terrified before moving in and dragging their boss back.

"Okay, he said okay! Let go of me! He shook off restraining hands. Breathing heavily he looked at his victim lying on the floor with a broken nose. Make sure he receives medical attention. His anger always found its way to fall in one if his men. Get your men, we're returning back" He commanded, turning to Mr Gideon. Inform me when everyone returns, if you don't. You will see my not so friendly side"

He clenched his fists, his knuckles turning white as he thought of the punishment big boss would do to him. The frustration boiled within him, whoever betrayed him won't see another day. He exited and shut the door with a loud bang

It was few minutes to twelve when two sleek black vehicles rolled up to a halt in front of Carl's residence. His house was the biggest and most developed house in the community an evidence to the authority and power he had in the community.

Carl, the once respected leader of the community, had always been entrusted with the responsibility of overseeing the collection of taxes and rent from the memberd. These funds were meant to be utilized for the betterment of the community, ensuring its growth and development. However, few months after assuming his office, Carl had gradually succumbed to the allure of power and greed.

With the aid of his henchmen, he began to exploit the very system that was designed to benefit the community. Instead of faithfully submitting the collected funds for community development to the senior boss, Carl diverted huge sums for his personal use and increased the tax by twenty percent.

As the months went by, the community started to notice a decline in the quality of life. They began to refuse paying their tax. Carl began to use ill means, to get the tax from them. He physically abused the men and subjected the women to stressful jobs. Doing whatever it took to get money from them---

With a forceful kick, Carl thrust open the door, the previous anger, still seething beneath his skin.

"Tell your men to line up and wait for me in the meeting hall!" His cold command to Oliver, cut through the night air.

With clenched fists, Carl returned back to the house, annoyance etched across his face.

---

Hazel, on the verge of drifting into sleep, was jolted awake by the roar of loud approaching vehicles. That must be Carl--- she thought, as she sat up on the bed. Hearing the door bang shut loudly, she felt the tension, and knew he wasn't in a nice mood.

"Oh God" Hazel heart began thumping loudly, as the steps he took, echoed closer. The door swung open with force, and Carl, took off his coat and flung it onto a nearby chair.

Swallowing hard, Hazel greeted him tentatively. "Welcome, dear... How has your night been?" The question hung in the air, regret instantly settling in her gut.

"Do you honestly want me to reply to that?" Carl cocked his eyebrow, the scornful reply slashed through her heart

"I...is... just..." Hazel began, but he shook his head dismissively, heading straight to the cupboard that housed his weapons. Retrieving brass knuckles, a sleek rifle, and a tiny, menacing axe, he left her alone in the room. In shock, Hazel began wondering what he was going to do with all those weapons. And who was the prey they had caught.

.

.

.

Carl marched towards the meeting hall, leaving Hazel to contemplate, on how the lovely man she was head over heels with, who promised to take care of her, was now controlled by demons. Now, the chilling aura that surrounded her husband-a man who let his power, and greed get to him affected her, as he showed no affection towards her. And they drifted apart, with each passing night.

.

.

The air in the meeting hall was stiff, as they lined up and waited for their boss. Their heart raced in their chest, a mix of fear and desperation.

Suddenly, an anticipatory hush fell over them as echoes of his footsteps was heard. Carl emerged, his presence commanding the attention of the assembled men, as he assumed his rightful place in the hall.

"Ahemm..he cleared his throat languidly, as he fixed his eyes on them. The air was thick with a current of fear, and the dim light seemed to flicker in response to the tension. Line up!" Carl's voice sliced through the silence.The men formed a rigid line, according to their rank. Oliver, Marshal and Douglas stood apart from them.

As Carl paced before them, eyes accessing their expression, he began the interrogation. "Who betrayed us? Who informed the community members that we were coming?"

The men exchanged nervous glances, the weight of Carl's displeasure hanging heavily in the air.

Oliver's eyes darted, shifting uncomfortably under the tension. He knew his boss too well.

Oliver, was the oldest member. As he began working under Carl, when Carl was a lower henchman. Few years after, Marshal and Douglas were recruited. The trio were loyal henchmen of Carl, always honest whenever they went to collect tax and gave account for it. Their job as henchmen continued till Carl was promoted to the community leader, and more men had to be recruited.

The trio felt somewhat hurt that Carl had to question their loyalty. But they knew, how emotional he could get---

"Speak up!. You were there. You know who betrayed us.?" Carl's voice lowered, an ominous growl that resounded in the hall.

"I swear, sir, I don't know," They man pleaded, beads of sweat forming on his forehead. His heart thumping loudly, as desperate lines formed on his face.

"I'll ask again, Who betrayed us?" Carl's voice increased, as he searched their face.

He then targeted another of his men, The man stammered as he tried to defend his innocence. "I-I don't know, sir. I swear."

But Carl's patience wore thin. He grabbed him by the collar, his fingers tightening the man's throat. "Think carefully, think. Our livelihoods depend on it. If big boss comes now, I won't tell him this bullshit."

Carl's frustration boiled to the surface. His hand lashed out, striking the man with the brass knuckles across his face. The crack echoed through the hall. He groaned and began pleading.

"Si...sir please I..."

"Shut the fuck up!... another punch landed with brutal force, blood streaming down the man's nose, he kicked him across the room.

Deep frown lines etched across his forehead, as he received no immediate response.

Sweat began forming around Carl's face. He glared at another of his men. "Who?"

"Sir, please, I don't know... Please," he begged, his face contorted with pain.

"Don't tell me that." Carl kicked the man down, unleashing punches at him with the brass knuckles he wore. Blood spilled all over, as the man pleaded.

Confusion clouded the faces of Douglas, Marshal, and Oliver. They stood frozen, watching their boss unleash a ruthless side they had seen once before. Carl's greed-driven fury surfaced whenever things doesn't go the way he wants it.

Loyalty, that was what restrained them from stopping him, as they were sure, that if they intervene, it will only provoke him further.

As Carl battered the man's face, he abruptly pulled out a rifle and shot him point-blank.

Wiping his palm on the man's lifeless body, he stood up. Blood stains on his face, making him look like a hot psycho, he moved on to the next, the rifle now pressed against the next man's trembling head.

"Why did you betray me?" His expression remained an emotionless mask.

"Sir... I don't know..." The words hung in the air before the sound of another gunshot echoed, the second man falling silent. As the lifeless body crumpled to the floor, Carl, his frustration boiling, swiftly moved to the next trembling figure.

"Go on," he beckoned, the tension thick in the air. "Did you betray me?" he demanded, his voice echoing through the room.

The man, shaking in fear, stammered, "Sir, I...," his plea cut short as Carl's fist landed with merciless force, his blood, mingling with the ones on the floor.

"Sir, please stop!" A desperate plea shattered the almost barbaric scene. Carl paused, his gaze fixed on the owner.

--------

Meanwhile, in another corner of the mansion, Hazel battled the guilt of staying in bed and ignoring the cries of physical abuse emanating from the meeting hall. Her husband can be so ruthless, especially when it comes to getting what he wants.

His greed could overpower him at any point, regardless of the person involved. Still knowing how Carl would take it, if he sees her there. Throwing off the sheets, she wrapped herself in Carl's coat and rushed out.

.

---

The man breathed a sigh of relief as Carl lowered the gun from his head.

"Well, well well,Oliver, Carl raised an eyebrow, curious. "You've got something to say to us?" he inquired, closing the distance.

Expressionless, Oliver stood firm, almost regretting the interruption.

Hmm?, tell me," Carl pressed when he stood face to face with the taller man, placing an arm on his shoulder

"I doubt if you'll get the answer you want this way. It's just not right. If you carry on like this, you will end up killing everyone" Oliver concluded cautiously, attempting not to offend him.

"Really, I should have known you're more experienced than I am," Carl chuckled, a humorless sound that revealed no teeth.

Oliver shook his head disappointedly, knowing Carl understood him.

"Or you know what, why don't you tell us who betrayed us?" Carl suggested, raising a gun to Oliver's head. Marshal and Douglas stood shocked, their gaze locked, not knowing it would get to this point.

"Hmm, go on now," Carl urged, the air thick with anticipation.

"Sir, I think you should put that down," Oliver retorted, suddenly met with a fierce blow to his stomach. He whimpered in pain and rolled on the floor. Carl pounced on him, brass knuckles meeting his face with brutal force. Blood flowed from the cracks on his head

Raising Oliver's battered face, he spat---

"You traitor. Are you tired of working for me, huh? Answer me." He slapped his face.

Getting no reply, he raised his rifle to Oliver's skull, cocking it...

---

"Stop!" A voice halted Carl, saving Oliver's head "Please stop. It was me. Please, it was me who informed them. I was the one who sold you out" The voice cried out

Silence gripped everyone.

Carl's gaze shifted from Oliver's face. His expression softened a bit

"Why?"----

The feminine voice quivered with an intensity that hung in the air, leaving everyone suspended. The sudden confession from his wife left everyone in the hall stunned. All waiting for their boss's reaction

Carl's gaze shifted, his eyes narrowing as they locked onto Hazel's tear-streaked face.

"You?" Carl's voice, usually commanding, wavered with a mix of disbelief and anger. His eyes bore into Hazel. Why, Hazel?" Carl's voice softened, a mixture of bewilderment and hurt.

"I couldn't bear it, Carl. I couldn't watch them suffer anymore." Her voice, soft and broken, carried the weight of guilt. "I needed to do something about it, i wanted to protect them."

"Protect them? He asked bewildered. From who? Me? All they had to do was pay what they owe. Is not like am taking from them you fool!" He concluded with disgust

Douglas, Marshal, and Oliver exchanged bewildered glances, caught in the crossfire of loyalty and survival.

Carl stood, his features contorted with conflicting emotions-betrayal, anger, his face becoming red

Carl's fingers tightened around the rifle, his gaze flickering between Hazel and his loyal trio. Torn between the loyalty he demanded and the loyalty he never expected to question.

.

.

Seeing the hurt and angry expression on Carl's beautiful yet ruthless face, Hazel felt a pang of regret deep within her. She never meant to hurt him at all.

.

.

Carl shoved the gun into his pants, as he moved swiftly towards Hazel, grabbing her shoulders aggressively. His ruthless grip tight, as he shook her.

"You don't know the loss you've caused me, Hazel!" he bellowed. His eyes, cold and piercing, bore into her, demanding answers.

"I'm sorry, Carl. I didn't know it would be like that," she apologized, her voice almost breaking as tears welled up in her eyes.

"Damn", he cursed as his grip tightened, fingers almost digging into her flesh.

"Carl, you're hurting me," Hazel pleaded, tears streaming down her face, as regret washed over her, not knowing her husband would take it like this. How she hated herself for betraying her husband.

"Fuck! I don't know what I'll tell the big boss now, because you... you've ruined everything!" Carl's voice echoed, the force of his words was matched by the slap that he landed on her cheek. She crumpled on the floor. Her heart aching with both physical and emotional pain, tears and sobs breaking free.

"Aww, don't cry," Carl's callousness cut deep. "You've caused me even more. I should be the one bawling" his words a cruel mockery.

"I said I'm sorry," she assured, honesty laced with desperation to make him calm. "I'll do anything to make it right," she swore, her plea hanging in the air.

Smiling slyly, Carl retorted, "Anything?"

Nodding stiffly she agreed. Carl chuckled as he grabbed her hair aggressively, her face aching in pain as he began pulling her back towards the mansion.

.

.

..

As Hazel was forcefully dragged back to the mansion, the echoes of her sobs resonated as he kept pulling her

"Anything?" Carl's sneer deepened as he continued his grip on her hair.

"Yes, anything," Hazel repeated, her voice quivering with a mix of fear and determination to win his love back.

Carl's grin widened, relishing the newfound power over her.

"Good. You're going to fix this mess you've made. And you'll do it exactly as I say," Carl declared, his voice cold and calculated.

As they approached what seemed like Carl's private sanctum, her heart pounded louder.

Carl released his grip on Hazel's hair, shoving her into the room. And banging the door fiercely behind them.

"Now, listen carefully," Carl's tone gave no room for argument. Hazel stood, a fragile figure, yet a quiet strength flickered in her eyes.

"I don't want to know how you do it, but you're going to salvage this situation, Hazel," he continued, pacing in front of her. You'll find a way to bring those villagers back. And if you fail, I promise you, you'll face consequences far worse than anything you've experienced so far."

Hazel, torn between the guilt of her actions and the fear of the unknown, nodded silently.

"Remember, what you've caused me to loose is much more than you could pay back, so I can do to you whatever I please. Carl's voice dropped to a chilling whisper, from now on, your every move will be under scrutiny. Fail me, and the consequences will be severe."

With that, he dismissed her. Hazel stepped out of the room, beginning another round of sobs. Her headache became intense, the weight of the responsibility heavy on her shoulders. Her intention was only to help Gregs's family, she didn't know Greg would circulate the news and the entire community would flee.

And now Carl hates her for it. She never knew living with Carl would be this difficult. When Carl was in one of his moods, she's usually afraid to go to sleep, afraid that if she did, she'll wake up and find him gone. Exhaustion drained her.

She had always thought of leaving him, but where would she go? She can't possibly go back home, all the girls in their neighbourhood would mock her. But she still didn't want to leave, cause she was still convinced that, despite everything, Carl still loved her. And that was why he married her.

So she must try her best to please him.

As she navigated the corridors of the mansion, her mind began racing on numerous ways to, undo the consequences of her own actions.

.

.

.

Carl hissed and banged the door shut, with annoyance still etched on his face. Still sulking over the losses, he sauntered to the dining area, to seek solace from his only ever loyal companion, and to drown his sorrows and clear his mind.

Upon reaching the liquor cabinet, he discovered it empty. Anger, fueled by the recent events, transformed into a rage. Carl roared the butler's name.

"Sammy! Sammy!" he bellowed in annoyance.

The middle-aged man promptly rushed to his side. "Yes, sir," Sammy responded, bracing himself for whatever Carl was about to unleash.

"Why? Why, Sammy? Why should we be out of this!" Carl yelled, flinging a bottle at his feet. The shattered glass resonated violently, sending shards scattering across the floor, startling the older man.

"I'm so sorry, sir," Sammy apologized, his voice trembling. "I didn't know we exhausted it, I'll go get some right now." He moved to adjust his butler's attire in readiness.

"Sammy, you take me as a joke! None of those damn vendors are around," Carl chuckled with a touch of madness. "Where are you gonna get it, huh?" His thunderous tone intensified, his expression now deadly serious.

"No... none of them? Sammy's eyes widened. I'll try my best, sir. I could go to the neighboring towns and ask sombody there."

"Oh, shut the hell up! Carl's impatience flared. Come here." He beckoned to the man.

"Me?" Sammy pointed to his own face.

"Of course, you. Who else would I be talking to?" Carl retorted, a half-laugh playing on his face.

"Okay, sir," Sammy approached nervously, only to find himself yanked by the collar. Carl lifted him with a fierce grip.

His grip on the man's throat tightened, choking the man in the process

"I promise you, next time something like this repeats itself, i won't be so friendly," Carl warned, throwing him down violently, his skin dangerously close to the shattered glass.

~~~~~~~~

In another part of the mansion, Hazel sat on the bed, dried tears still staining her face. She contemplated how she would mend things with Carl. Suddenly, the shattering of glass jolted her, the echoes of Carl's frustration reaching her ears. Startled, she sat up. Hurrying through the hallways, she followed the sound, her steps quick in sense of urgency. Upon reaching the scene, she saw Carl towering a fragile figure. The remnants of a broken bottle at his feet.

"Carl?" Hazel's voice trembled as she cautiously entered the room.

He turned, his eyes a tempest of anger, and frustration.The room seemed to shrink under the weight of his presence.

"What do you want?" Carl's voice was a low growl, his gaze piercing through Hazel.

"I heard the noise. Are you okay?" Hazel cautiously stepped closer, her concern overshadowing the fear.

"Okay? Does it look like I'm okay?" Carl's retort was sharp, laced with the remnants of his recent outburst.

"I'm sorry," Hazel whispered, her eyes avoiding the broken glass

Carl scoffed, a bitter laughter escaping him. "Sorry won't fix this mess."

"I want to help Carl, I truly want to" Hazel said, her voice soft. I agree it was all my fault, I promise, I'll fix everything, Carl, give me sometime"

He stared at her, the internal struggle evident in his eyes. For a moment, it seemed like he might relent, but then a hardness returned

"You can't help," Carl stated, his tone final. "Just leave me alone."

Hazel hesitated, torn between retreating and standing her ground. The room hung in silence. In the tension of everything, Sammy quietly retreated to the living room.

"You can't help," Carl dismissed her, his words cutting through the air with finality. "Just leave me alone," he concluded, turning his back to leave.

"Where are you going?" Hazel's voice trailed after him, concern weaving through her words.

"None of your damn business!" Carl shot back. Hazel hesitated for a moment before rushing to block him. She grabbed his arm, pulling him back to face her, desperation etched on her face.

"Carl, I know I've failed you. I'm so sorry about all that," she pleaded, gazing into his beautiful yet troubled face. But please don't leave me all by myself. I'll be lost without you"

Carl looked at her as if she'd unleashed an unfamiliar side of herself. He had only witnessed this wild intensity in Hazel when she first moved in. "Are you alright?" he asked, still taken aback by her unexpected words, which pierced him.

"Carl, she continued, her voice a mix of desperation and sincerity. Please come back to me. I miss you! I miss the old you." Worry painted her expression, and Carl couldn't help but feel a twinge of conflict within himself.

Staring down at her, he wrestled with the despise that threatened to consume him. He tried to control it, but beneath the surface, a storm raged.

"I'll be going out."

"Out? Now?" Hazel inquired, her concern evident in her eyes.

Ignoring her, Carl picked up his coat and flung it over his shoulder. "Carl,she ran after him, grabbing his hands. Where exactly are you-"

"Get the hell off me, damn!" Carl yanked his hand away with force, causing her to stumble and injure her hand on a bottle.

"Ouch," she uttered, calling out to him half-expecting him to show some concern.

But, shockingly, he didn't flinch "Ahem, later..."he cleared his throat, turned his back on her, and headed out.

"Carl... Carl," Hazel, wide eyes couldn't believe his behavior.

"Ma'am, let me help out," Sammy rushed to her.

"Don't worry, I can manage," she replied, bowing her head to the ground, tears welled up in her eyes.