Angela stepped forward, aware that her life was turning a page, even if someone in the house wanted to tear the book.
Jeff led her down a hallway to a quiet room.
“Angela,” he said softly, “this is my father.”
The old man sat on the bed, looking small under a blanket, eyes wandering like they were searching for lost time.
Angela’s breath caught.
Papa James.
The same man she had fed with her last bus fare.
She swallowed her shock, keeping her face neutral to avoid embarrassing him.
Papa James looked at her, puzzled. He did not recognize her.
Jeff continued, “Your salary will be five hundred thousand naira every month.”
Angela nearly choked. “Sir… that’s too much. I’ve never seen that kind of money before.”
Jeff smiled faintly. “Normally I pay less. But you told me about your sick mother. Use it to take care of her.”
Angela’s eyes filled with tears she tried to hide.
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.
