I GOT ERASED BY MY OWN SISTER
FINALE
The door burst open, and Nneka stood there—alive, real, her eyes burning with a fire that had refused to die even in the darkest depths of the asylum.
Emeka’s breath caught in his throat.
"Nneka…?" His voice was barely a whisper, as if speaking too loud would shatter the illusion.
But she was real.
Her skin, once glowing, was now pale and thin. Her hair, once thick and lustrous, hung in limp strands. Her wrists bore the marks of restraints, her body frail from months of forced sedation. Yet, her spirit—*her will*—was unbroken.
Ngozi’s reaction was instant.
"NO!" she shrieked, her voice a guttural, animalistic snarl. "YOU’RE DEAD! YOU’RE SUPPOSED TO BE GONE!"
She lunged, fingers curled into claws, aiming for Nneka’s throat.
The police officers, who had followed Nneka and her parents inside, moved swiftly. Two of them grabbed Ngozi, wrenching her back, but she fought like a rabid beast, kicking, screaming, spitting curses.
"SHE STOLE EVERYTHING FROM ME! IT WAS SUPPOSED TO BE MINE!"
Nneka didn’t flinch. She stood tall, her gaze locked onto her sister’s deranged face.
"You did this to yourself, Ngozi."
The evidence against Ngozi was overwhelming.
1. The Poison Plot – The spilled wine was tested. Forensic experts confirmed it was laced with a lethal, untraceable toxin. Emeka’s glass had been moments away from his lips.
2. The Asylum Records – Nurse Adaeze testified, presenting forged documents Ngozi had used to commit Nneka under a false identity.
3. The Financial Crimes** – Bank statements revealed Ngozi had drained Nneka’s business accounts, spending millions on luxury
shopping sprees and parties.
4. The Fake Suicide – The "suicide note" by the river was proven to be Ngozi’s handwriting, not Nneka’s.
Ngozi’s defense crumbled.
The trial was swift. Ngozi, dressed in an ill-fitting orange jumpsuit, sat in the defendant’s chair, her once-perfect makeup replaced by dark circles and a permanent scowl.
When the judge read the charges—attempted murder, fraud, identity theft, false imprisonment—Ngozi’s composure snapped.
"SHE DESERVED IT!" she screamed, pointing at Nneka, who sat calmly beside Emeka. *l"SHE HAD EVERYTHING! OUR PARENTS LOVED HER MORE! MEN WANTED HER MORE! EVEN HER ****** BUSINESS WAS BETTER THAN ANYTHING I COULD DO!"
The courtroom fell silent.
For the first time, everyone saw the truth—Ngozi wasn’t just evil. She was broken.
But brokenness wasn’t an excuse for monstrosity.
The judge’s voice was steel.
"For your crimes, you are sentenced to thirty years in federal prison—twenty-five for attempted murder and fraud, and an additional five for the poisoning plot. You will be eligible for parole in twenty years, though given the nature of your actions, I doubt the board will look favorably upon you."
Ngozi’s face twisted in rage.
"NO! YOU CAN’T DO THIS TO ME!"
She lunged again, this time at the judge, but the bailiffs restrained her. As they dragged her away, she locked eyes with Nneka one last time.
"THIS ISN’T OVER!" she howled.
But it was.
Ngozi was sent to a maximum-security prison, where she would spend her days in hard labor, her beauty fading, her rage festering.
Her parents disowned her publicly.
"We have only one daughter now,"* her father said in an interview, his voice heavy with grief.
Emeka was haunted by guilt.
"I should have known," he whispered one night, holding Nneka’s scarred hands. *"I married her thinking it was you. I slept under the same roof as that monster while you suffered."
Nneka cupped his face.
"You couldn’t have known. She was that good at pretending. But now… we move forward."
Three months later, on a sunlit beach, Nneka walked down the aisle—this time, for real.
She wore a flowing white gown, her hair braided elegantly, her smile radiant.
Emeka, dressed in a crisp black suit, wept as she approached.
Their vows were simple.
"After everything… I choose you. Always."
The guests—family, friends, even Nurse Adaeze—cheered as they kissed.
They traveled to the Maldives, then Paris, then Bali—making up for lost time.
Nneka’s business, Naturé by Nneka, was relaunched. With Emeka’s support, it became even more successful than before.
Two years later, Nneka gave birth to twin boys—healthy, beautiful, with their mother’s bright eyes and their father’s strong features.
As she held them for the first time, she whispered:
"You will never know the kind of evil that exists in this world… because I will spend my life protecting you from it."
Ngozi remained in prison, her screams fading into silence.
Nneka thrived—her heart healing, her life full.
And as for Emeka?
He loved her more fiercely than ever.
Because after all they had endured…
They had won.
THE END.
FINALE
The door burst open, and Nneka stood there—alive, real, her eyes burning with a fire that had refused to die even in the darkest depths of the asylum.
Emeka’s breath caught in his throat.
"Nneka…?" His voice was barely a whisper, as if speaking too loud would shatter the illusion.
But she was real.
Her skin, once glowing, was now pale and thin. Her hair, once thick and lustrous, hung in limp strands. Her wrists bore the marks of restraints, her body frail from months of forced sedation. Yet, her spirit—*her will*—was unbroken.
Ngozi’s reaction was instant.
"NO!" she shrieked, her voice a guttural, animalistic snarl. "YOU’RE DEAD! YOU’RE SUPPOSED TO BE GONE!"
She lunged, fingers curled into claws, aiming for Nneka’s throat.
The police officers, who had followed Nneka and her parents inside, moved swiftly. Two of them grabbed Ngozi, wrenching her back, but she fought like a rabid beast, kicking, screaming, spitting curses.
"SHE STOLE EVERYTHING FROM ME! IT WAS SUPPOSED TO BE MINE!"
Nneka didn’t flinch. She stood tall, her gaze locked onto her sister’s deranged face.
"You did this to yourself, Ngozi."
The evidence against Ngozi was overwhelming.
1. The Poison Plot – The spilled wine was tested. Forensic experts confirmed it was laced with a lethal, untraceable toxin. Emeka’s glass had been moments away from his lips.
2. The Asylum Records – Nurse Adaeze testified, presenting forged documents Ngozi had used to commit Nneka under a false identity.
3. The Financial Crimes** – Bank statements revealed Ngozi had drained Nneka’s business accounts, spending millions on luxury
shopping sprees and parties.
4. The Fake Suicide – The "suicide note" by the river was proven to be Ngozi’s handwriting, not Nneka’s.
Ngozi’s defense crumbled.
The trial was swift. Ngozi, dressed in an ill-fitting orange jumpsuit, sat in the defendant’s chair, her once-perfect makeup replaced by dark circles and a permanent scowl.
When the judge read the charges—attempted murder, fraud, identity theft, false imprisonment—Ngozi’s composure snapped.
"SHE DESERVED IT!" she screamed, pointing at Nneka, who sat calmly beside Emeka. *l"SHE HAD EVERYTHING! OUR PARENTS LOVED HER MORE! MEN WANTED HER MORE! EVEN HER ****** BUSINESS WAS BETTER THAN ANYTHING I COULD DO!"
The courtroom fell silent.
For the first time, everyone saw the truth—Ngozi wasn’t just evil. She was broken.
But brokenness wasn’t an excuse for monstrosity.
The judge’s voice was steel.
"For your crimes, you are sentenced to thirty years in federal prison—twenty-five for attempted murder and fraud, and an additional five for the poisoning plot. You will be eligible for parole in twenty years, though given the nature of your actions, I doubt the board will look favorably upon you."
Ngozi’s face twisted in rage.
"NO! YOU CAN’T DO THIS TO ME!"
She lunged again, this time at the judge, but the bailiffs restrained her. As they dragged her away, she locked eyes with Nneka one last time.
"THIS ISN’T OVER!" she howled.
But it was.
Ngozi was sent to a maximum-security prison, where she would spend her days in hard labor, her beauty fading, her rage festering.
Her parents disowned her publicly.
"We have only one daughter now,"* her father said in an interview, his voice heavy with grief.
Emeka was haunted by guilt.
"I should have known," he whispered one night, holding Nneka’s scarred hands. *"I married her thinking it was you. I slept under the same roof as that monster while you suffered."
Nneka cupped his face.
"You couldn’t have known. She was that good at pretending. But now… we move forward."
Three months later, on a sunlit beach, Nneka walked down the aisle—this time, for real.
She wore a flowing white gown, her hair braided elegantly, her smile radiant.
Emeka, dressed in a crisp black suit, wept as she approached.
Their vows were simple.
"After everything… I choose you. Always."
The guests—family, friends, even Nurse Adaeze—cheered as they kissed.
They traveled to the Maldives, then Paris, then Bali—making up for lost time.
Nneka’s business, Naturé by Nneka, was relaunched. With Emeka’s support, it became even more successful than before.
Two years later, Nneka gave birth to twin boys—healthy, beautiful, with their mother’s bright eyes and their father’s strong features.
As she held them for the first time, she whispered:
"You will never know the kind of evil that exists in this world… because I will spend my life protecting you from it."
Ngozi remained in prison, her screams fading into silence.
Nneka thrived—her heart healing, her life full.
And as for Emeka?
He loved her more fiercely than ever.
Because after all they had endured…
They had won.
THE END.
I GOT ERASED BY MY OWN SISTER
FINALE
The door burst open, and Nneka stood there—alive, real, her eyes burning with a fire that had refused to die even in the darkest depths of the asylum.
Emeka’s breath caught in his throat.
"Nneka…?" His voice was barely a whisper, as if speaking too loud would shatter the illusion.
But she was real.
Her skin, once glowing, was now pale and thin. Her hair, once thick and lustrous, hung in limp strands. Her wrists bore the marks of restraints, her body frail from months of forced sedation. Yet, her spirit—*her will*—was unbroken.
Ngozi’s reaction was instant.
"NO!" she shrieked, her voice a guttural, animalistic snarl. "YOU’RE DEAD! YOU’RE SUPPOSED TO BE GONE!"
She lunged, fingers curled into claws, aiming for Nneka’s throat.
The police officers, who had followed Nneka and her parents inside, moved swiftly. Two of them grabbed Ngozi, wrenching her back, but she fought like a rabid beast, kicking, screaming, spitting curses.
"SHE STOLE EVERYTHING FROM ME! IT WAS SUPPOSED TO BE MINE!"
Nneka didn’t flinch. She stood tall, her gaze locked onto her sister’s deranged face.
"You did this to yourself, Ngozi."
The evidence against Ngozi was overwhelming.
1. The Poison Plot – The spilled wine was tested. Forensic experts confirmed it was laced with a lethal, untraceable toxin. Emeka’s glass had been moments away from his lips.
2. The Asylum Records – Nurse Adaeze testified, presenting forged documents Ngozi had used to commit Nneka under a false identity.
3. The Financial Crimes** – Bank statements revealed Ngozi had drained Nneka’s business accounts, spending millions on luxury
shopping sprees and parties.
4. The Fake Suicide – The "suicide note" by the river was proven to be Ngozi’s handwriting, not Nneka’s.
Ngozi’s defense crumbled.
The trial was swift. Ngozi, dressed in an ill-fitting orange jumpsuit, sat in the defendant’s chair, her once-perfect makeup replaced by dark circles and a permanent scowl.
When the judge read the charges—attempted murder, fraud, identity theft, false imprisonment—Ngozi’s composure snapped.
"SHE DESERVED IT!" she screamed, pointing at Nneka, who sat calmly beside Emeka. *l"SHE HAD EVERYTHING! OUR PARENTS LOVED HER MORE! MEN WANTED HER MORE! EVEN HER STUPID BUSINESS WAS BETTER THAN ANYTHING I COULD DO!"
The courtroom fell silent.
For the first time, everyone saw the truth—Ngozi wasn’t just evil. She was broken.
But brokenness wasn’t an excuse for monstrosity.
The judge’s voice was steel.
"For your crimes, you are sentenced to thirty years in federal prison—twenty-five for attempted murder and fraud, and an additional five for the poisoning plot. You will be eligible for parole in twenty years, though given the nature of your actions, I doubt the board will look favorably upon you."
Ngozi’s face twisted in rage.
"NO! YOU CAN’T DO THIS TO ME!"
She lunged again, this time at the judge, but the bailiffs restrained her. As they dragged her away, she locked eyes with Nneka one last time.
"THIS ISN’T OVER!" she howled.
But it was.
Ngozi was sent to a maximum-security prison, where she would spend her days in hard labor, her beauty fading, her rage festering.
Her parents disowned her publicly.
"We have only one daughter now,"* her father said in an interview, his voice heavy with grief.
Emeka was haunted by guilt.
"I should have known," he whispered one night, holding Nneka’s scarred hands. *"I married her thinking it was you. I slept under the same roof as that monster while you suffered."
Nneka cupped his face.
"You couldn’t have known. She was that good at pretending. But now… we move forward."
Three months later, on a sunlit beach, Nneka walked down the aisle—this time, for real.
She wore a flowing white gown, her hair braided elegantly, her smile radiant.
Emeka, dressed in a crisp black suit, wept as she approached.
Their vows were simple.
"After everything… I choose you. Always."
The guests—family, friends, even Nurse Adaeze—cheered as they kissed.
They traveled to the Maldives, then Paris, then Bali—making up for lost time.
Nneka’s business, Naturé by Nneka, was relaunched. With Emeka’s support, it became even more successful than before.
Two years later, Nneka gave birth to twin boys—healthy, beautiful, with their mother’s bright eyes and their father’s strong features.
As she held them for the first time, she whispered:
"You will never know the kind of evil that exists in this world… because I will spend my life protecting you from it."
Ngozi remained in prison, her screams fading into silence.
Nneka thrived—her heart healing, her life full.
And as for Emeka?
He loved her more fiercely than ever.
Because after all they had endured…
They had won.
THE END.
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