When Jeff left the room, Angela stepped closer to Papa James.
“Papa,” she whispered, smiling, “don’t you remember me? It’s Angela.”
Papa James frowned, confused. Then he said simply, “I’m hungry. Please get me food to eat.”
Angela nodded quickly. “Okay, Papa.”
She went straight to the kitchen.
Mabel entered like a storm wearing perfume.
“Oh wow,” she snapped. “You already feel at home? How dare you enter my kitchen without my permission?”
Angela bowed her head. “Sorry, Ma. My boss showed me the way. He said I can enter anywhere I like.”
Mabel’s eyes flashed. “Oh really? Jeff is really trying me.”
She marched to Jeff, voice rising, trying to turn the house into a courtroom.
“How dare you disrespect me in front of a maid? That girl is in my kitchen. You told her she can enter anywhere!”
Jeff looked at her calmly. “Mabel, she’s doing her job. Someone is finally doing what you refuse to do. Aren’t you supposed to be happy?”
Mabel froze. “Did you just call me lazy?”
Jeff’s voice didn’t soften. “If the shoe fits.”
Mabel’s pride turned into a vow. “I will make sure that girl doesn’t last in this house.”
Jeff stepped closer, eyes cold. “You won’t dare. If you try anything with Angela, you’ll see a side of me you won’t like.”
Mabel went quiet, humiliated.
And Angela, unaware of the exact shape of the storm gathering, continued cooking for Papa James, humming softly like peace could be summoned with melody.
That evening, Angela returned home smiling.
Her mother sat up weakly. “My daughter, welcome. How was your first day?”
“It was good, Mama,” Angela said, eyes shining. “And Mama… my salary is five hundred thousand naira every month.”
Her mother covered her mouth in shock. “Five… what?”
Angela nodded. “Yes, Mama. Sir Jeff added more because of you.”
Her mother cried quietly. “God will bless that young man.”
Angela leaned closer, voice dropping like it carried wonder. “Mama, remember the old man I told you about? The one I gave my last money?”
Her mother nodded.
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