"Amara, you need to understand that Tunde is a man of high standing," my mother whispered, her voice cutting through the humid afternoon air. I sat frozen behind the heavy mahogany door of her sitting room, my hand hovering over the handle. My dear mother believed my scars would become a burden too heavy for a man like him. For illustrative purposes only. Photo: Mindful Media Source: Getty Images "He deserves a wife who matches his ambition, someone polished who understands the nuances of his world," she continued with a chilling, rhythmic smoothness. I heard the clink of a porcelain teacup hitting a saucer, a sound that felt like a gavel striking a final, silent judgment. "My Amara is... stable, yes, but she carries such a heavy, difficult past that I fear will eventually exhaust a ma...