“In the largest rivers of Nigeria, there dwells a beautiful woman. The sea is her home and she is master over weaving waterways. When she comes to land, her scales shed to flesh, allowing her profound beauty to mesmerize all who look upon her. Although she is beautiful and wealthy, she cannot find happiness, for she is a mother without a child. As the children of the Earth approach her, she calls out ‘Bia, Bia,’ beckoning them near so they might become kin with the sea. As they come, she embraces them tightly, squeezing out their last breath before filling their lungs with the salty brine of the river as she takes them below the waves to her home. For those wise enough to obey without restraint, she grants them powers and spiritual knowledge before returning them back to land so they might serve as her prophets. For the unlucky souls who mourn their departure from that which they knew, the consequence of their grief is condemnation, as they resurface bloated and blue before gently floating to land, their final desire unfulfilled.”

The flicker of the station’s overhead light drew Kayla’s attention away from her narration. The light shifted once more before returning to a pale yellow, releasing Kayla’s attention back towards the interrogation.

The overhead fixture was the room’s sole light source, and it cast lanky shadows upon the two cops sitting across from her. Officer Shaw met the girl’s gaze with a tentative smile, an awkward addition to the man’s militant countenance. His posture was stiff and perched on the edge of his chair, hands folded neatly on the metal table between them. To his left sat Detective Hargrove. The detective’s casual lean and disheveled uniform were at odds with the rigid partner beside him.

Kayla could tell Shaw was the younger of the two as he lacked Hargrove’s salt-and-peppered hair and worry lines. Nor did Shaw have the unbending steel lining the detective’s gaze.

Under the weight of Hargrove’s clinical stare, Kayla looked elsewhere. The metal box she and the officers were confined to presented few options; she could either gaze at the men or look to the mirrored wall. A glance in the mirror, and her eyes locked with the figure gazing back. The girl she saw was thin, her once-bouncy coils now deflated into matted waves, her skin ashen in the lighting, her wrists handcuffed to the metal table. A lick of her chapped lips did nothing to improve them and only left her mouth dry. Although she was sixteen, her hunched posture and gaunt face aged her considerably.

Breaking away from the reflection, Kayla opted for option three: to stare at the hands bound to the table. Her averted gaze did nothing to deter the officers’ questions.

“And this was a frequent bedtime story Iyago told you and your ‘siblings,’ correct?” Kayla answered Hargrove with a curt nod. “A story about a woman kidnapping and murdering children. At what age did you realize this was her confession?”

“Not until I was older, around eight or so.” Kayla’s response was weak, its strength sapped by the depth of Hargrove’s stare.

“Then why not resist? Why not even try to escape?” The detective’s question was met with silence. With a sigh and a lazy gesture of the hand, he beckoned for Kayla to resume her testimony. Forcing a calm to settle upon her nerves, Kayla took a deep breath before recounting her time with Mami Iyago.
***
At eight-years-old, Kayla’s world consisted of a dimly lit cellar, a crate full of toys, and Joy. Although her surroundings offered little variation, the time she spent with her younger sister expanded her world to encompass pirates and dragons, myths and legends. An old sock became a king, a broken comb a queen, and a leaky faucet a knight’s battle cry. Each adventure created new and elaborate worlds for the pair to explore while distracting them from the rotting wood panels and uneven brick that served as both prison and home.

Playtime was only paused for Mami’s visits. Heralding from Upstairs, she would descend upon her children and greet the grinning pair. Although Mami never joined their fun, the children adored the woman regardless. Any sadness they might have felt about their limited freedom washed away with a glimpse at Mami, her pleasant smile framed by unbound curls and doe eyes that lulled the children into complacency.

Mami’s presence brought meals and Scripture. The children could find preserved goods in a corner of the cellar, but the fresh warmth of Mami’s suppers was something they longed for each night. Dinners were followed by baths, and any complaint about the frigid waters were rewarded with Scripture-addled lectures.

Each night, Mami would read from yellowed pages bound in leather as she narrated stories of holy lands and divine providence. When left to their own devices, Kayla and Joy frequently picked through the aged text Mami left behind, allowing their imagination to spark new passages where old ones lay unrecognized. But under Mami’s careful guise, the children stilled their fidgeting nature and listened as she read of covenants and commands, the most important being “Always honor your mother”.

If Mami’s mood was forgiving, she would treat them to more imaginative bedtime stories while tucking them into bed. If not, she left the children to imagine their own tales as they drifted off to sleep.

For the most part, Kayla was content with her life in the cellar, for there was little to suggest she feel otherwise.

Joy kept her constant company. Her companion’s dimpled grin and crooked laugh echoed across the walls, lifting Kayla’s spirit higher than the cellar could contain. Although she could live without her sister’s insistence on hogging their bedsheets, the time they shared were moments of bliss and imaginative fun.

Kayla couldn’t help but reflect on this last grievance, however, as she lay uncovered in their bed. She scowled at Joy sleeping beside her, unbothered by Kayla’s shivering. Without the blanket’s warmth lulling her to sleep, Kayla was left to stare at the rafters and contemplate revenge.

Maybe she’d ask Mami to have Joy lead tomorrow’s recitation. The nightly ritual followed their opening prayer and required one of the girls to recite the previous night’s Scripture. Mami claimed this was meant to encourage the children to ponder the holy teachings beyond their allotted fellowship time, but the girls failed to see the merit in this task. They often struggled to recall biblical lessons before Mami could scold them.

Kayla knew this would be ample punishment for Joy as her sister would have to recite Scripture from two days ago since Mami had missed that night’s fellowship. Although the children waited by the cellar door, the woman did not appear. The surprise Kayla had felt at this unexpected absence was quickly dismissed. She and Joy played for a while longer before going to bed.

Since they had missed one day of fellowship, she knew Joy wouldn’t recall their past teachings, leaving her at the mercy of Mami’s temper. Still staring at the rafters, Kayla chuckled at the cleverness of her revenge.

Revenge never came.

Clipping steps resounded from above and were accompanied by the soft click of the cellar door. Another click, and the dim cellar became flooded with light.

“Mami?” Rubbing potential sleep from her eyes, Kayla sat up. The quiet of the night was repeatedly broken by the gentle padding of Mami’s feet across stone as she walked toward the children. Kayla’s greeting was met with Mami’s silent stare as the woman halted beside the bed.

Any attempt to catch Mami’s eye was futile–her face was a mask of shadows. Kayla’s attention drifted down to the plastic bag clenched in Mami’s fist instead.

“Mami?”

As if hearing her for the first time, Mami cocked her head and issued a single command. “Wake Joy.” Obedient per the Scripture, Kayla shook her sister awake, and Mami grabbed the rousing girl’s arm. Resistance was met with a forceful tug.

“Wait, Mami–” Kayla made to follow the pair, but halted at the steel in Mami’s voice.

“Stay.” Another command, one Mami did not pause to see fulfilled as she continued to drag the small girl out of bed, across the room, and beyond the cellar. A final click signaled their exit, leaving Kayla alone in the dimly-lit room.

Kayla lay down once more and let the potent silence fill her ears. Unsure if Mami was upset, unsure if Joy would return, the girl lay waiting and anticipating some clarity. As the night dragged on, Kayla struggled to fight the lull of sleep, but found she could no longer deny the call to rest.

She awoke from a cold embrace.

Prying open her crusted eyes revealed a soaked arm wrapped around her middle. A twist of the head showed the arm belonged to a drenched Mami. Kayla studied the woman who had climbed into her bed. Dark circles hung in bags beneath Mami’s eyes, and her typically buoyant curls now dragged, as if its waterlogged state had drowned the coils of life. Her skin was clammy and ashen, and the thick dampness of her clothes suggested she had emerged from a deluge. The chill Mami radiated sucked any remaining warmth Kayla found beneath her sheets and her core began to quake.

Normally, if Kayla woke up within Mami’s embrace, the surprise would have been a delight for her. Now, given the woman’s empty gaze and the absence of Joy, the sight frightened her. With a wiggle, Kayla rolled over to face her anxiety.

“What’s wrong, Mami?”

Same as before, silence met her inquiry as Mami stared beyond the child’s frame. Just when Kayla thought the quiet was permanent, Mami launched into a story both old and new.

“In the largest rivers of Nigeria, there dwells a beautiful woman. The sea is her home and she is master over weaving waterways. On land, her scales shed to flesh and her profound beauty mesmerizes all who look upon her. But despite her resplendent beauty and wealth, the woman could never seem to find happiness. Do you know why, little one?” Despite the rhetorical pause, Kayla shook her head in response.

“Because the woman was a mother without a child. In all of her heart, and in all of her soul, she prayed for a child to warm her home, yet her desire lay unfulfilled for many years. Finally, the woman had had enough. If the gods weren’t going to grant her plea, then she would do so herself.

“The next time the woman came ashore, she did so in search of the answer to her prayers. She gazed upon the people who had gathered around, until finally, she saw it. A beautiful young girl stood alone. The woman knew in her heart the girl was meant for her, as she could sense the child held a kindred spirit, much like you and I.” With a smile, she glanced down at Kayla, but the brilliance in Mami’s grin could not fill the emptiness in her eyes. Quietly, Kayla continued to listen as Mami resumed her tale.

“‘Bia, Bia,’ the woman beckoned the girl forward, and with gentle obedience, the child came. The woman was overjoyed as she embraced the girl tightly and returned home with child in tow.

“Finally, the woman’s prayers had been answered. Finally, she was no longer a mother denied. But those moments of bliss proved brief as the child soon began to cry. No number of toys or sweets could soothe the wailing babe. After some time, the woman realized the child’s sorrow came from loneliness, for although she spent her nights caring for the babe, the child spent the days in solitude while the woman tended to the sea.

“So the woman returned to land once more, this time in search of a companion who might keep the child’s boredom at bay. In time, she stumbled across another lone girl and brought her home to the daughter’s delight. The woman sighed as the shared joy of the children replenished her own.

“But all was not well, for the woman had made a mistake. This new child she had taken was not alone but had instead wandered off from her home. The people of the shore were outraged, and the woman feared they might take both children instead of one. So she expelled the new babe before returning to land once more in search of another. Even now, it is said she still searches for a second child so that her daughter might never know the sorrow of loneliness.”

By the story’s end, the cold drench of Mami’s body had lessened to a mild chill. Mami’s hair no longer shed wet droplets, and her clammy skin was replaced with a growing kernel of warmth. Despite the tale’s haunting conclusion, the melody of her voice wrapped Kayla in a spell of drowsiness. Fighting against oncoming sleep, she looked back into the doe eyes resting beside her. Before fatigue could give way to rest, Kayla spied twin streaks of fresh wetness as they lay tracks along the woman’s face. These rivers of sorrow guided her to rest as Kayla began floating on a sea of dreams.

Mornings came and went without Mami visiting the cellar. Just as a familiar chill began seeping through Kayla’s core, a soft click broke the silence.

As Mami descended into the cellar, Kayla’s relieved smile fractured into a grin when she spied the small boy standing just beyond the woman’s frame.

***
“What happened to Joy?”

The cuffs sliced deep as Kayla met Hargrove’s stare with silence. Based on the file he placed on the table, she knew the detective was already familiar with what had become of her companion. Pulling out a paper, he flipped the page so that Kayla might read.

“Can you tell me what this says?” A shake of her head had the detective flipping the page back as he read aloud. “Joy Conway, age six, missing since December 10, 2014.” With a slip of his hand, he slid out another page from the stack so Kayla could see. It was a picture. “She was found dead April 27th the following year.”

Dread grew in the pits of Kayla’s stomach as she stared at the image. What she remembered of the smiling girl was incompatible with the bloated corpse shown before her. A dimpled smile had been replaced with cracked lips belonging to a gaping mouth. Her skin, formerly a deep gold, was now a bloated, sickly blue hue, a sharp contrast to the vibrant forestry around her. Eyes that had once been bright with wonder were now glazed, staring beyond the camera’s lens.

“According to the autopsy, she was drowned, although her body was found in the woods a mile inland. Do you want to tell me how that happened?”

Words failed her as Kayla continued to look at the discolored face of her former companion. Staring into those glassy eyes, it was like gazing at the dolls she and Joy had once shared.

As the silence grew, Hargrove’s patience wore thin.

From a stash below, he placed another file within arms reach. “How about Lewis Carmichael, can you tell me what happened to him?” No longer waiting for an answer, he pulled both text and images out of the folder and splayed both before her. “Proclaimed missing May 3rd, 2016. Found dead on August 5th. Cause of death, drowning despite being found in a forest a mile inland.” The boy’s swollen body accentuated Hargrove’s point.

Another picture replaced Lewis’s. “What about Sharlene Ofora? Or Jordan Thompson?” One file was met with another as Detective Hargrove piled a mountain of evidence against her. The flurry of papers mounted higher with each passing face, and it became harder for Kayla to fight the rising bile in her throat. The detective’s assault slowed as he placed a final picture before her.

“Daniella Foreman. Tell me about her.” Instead of a blue corpse, Kayla was greeted with the smiling face of a young girl. The beaming child faced the camera with a boldness as she proudly showed off the exposed gums where her two front teeth should have been. With that round face and wide set eyes, the child had to be no more than seven when the photo had been taken. A glance at the girl’s dimpled grin, and the ghost of Joy flashed across Kayla’s mind.

“Daniella Foreman, aged seven. Declared missing May 29th, 2023. Pronounced dead November 27th. Do you want to tell me how she died?”

This time, Kayla broke the quiet with a soft sob. “Drowned.”

Gentler than his partner, Officer Shaw prompted, “And who drowned her?”

Another muffled cry, before Kayla voiced her damnation. “I did.”

With her head downcast, Kayla could only see the officers through her water-lined lashes. A glance up revealed the two men sharing a look, with Hargrove seemingly undeterred by Shaw’s disapproving grimace. Nevertheless, Hargrove shrugged and sat back while Shaw cleared his throat before beginning his line of questioning.

“Do you remember a time before living with Iyago?”

Kayla hesitated while considering the question before shaking her head.

“Would it be fair to assume that most–if not all–of your life was spent under Iyago’s care?”

Kayla shrugged.

“And if you had to estimate, how long were you locked in the basement?”

“Sixteen years.” Kayla’s response was quiet but firm.

“Can you read or write?”

Kayla shook her head.

“Were you ever exposed to anyone other than Iyago and your ‘siblings?’”

Another shake of the head.

The officer looked on with pity. “So you’ve been held captive your entire life and were likely forced into helping your captor. We’d have to get a formal diagnosis, but I believe you’re suffering from Stockholm Syndrome.”

As the officer prattled on in her defense, Kayla found her dissent rising. Although she grieved the siblings she lost, she knew no amount of regret would undo her deeds, nor did she wish that they would. Her actions were her own, and there was no use hiding behind the men’s shared contempt of Mami Iyago.

“I volunteered.”

At this, Shaw paused. After some consideration, he spoke softly. “You’ve been held against your will for nearly two decades. You likely didn’t know what you were doing.”

Kayla shook her head once more before repeating, “I volunteered. I wanted to do it. I wanted to drown Dani.”

Before Shaw could continue, Hargrove interjected. “Why?” Cutting his partner a sharp look, Shaw swallowed his disapproval and let Hargrove continue.

“Why.” This time it was less a question, more a statement.

Kayla shifted under the weight of Hargrove’s stare and tried not to wince as the cuffs dug deeper into her wrists. Her breath grew jagged as she stared at the piercing metal, letting the coolness of the steel center her as she fought against the images flashing across her mind. Daniella’s beaming face as she splashed in the bath. Her giggle as Kayla pushed her gently under. The foam that rose to the water’s surface while the little girl did not. The emptiness Kayla felt before and the hollow pit she became after. With an effort, she shed these images from her mind and continued to press her pulse into the restraints until the metal’s chill matched the frost within her core.

“Why did you kill her?” At the repeated question, Kayla lifted her head and finally met Hargrove’s gaze.

“So Mami wouldn’t have to be alone.”