When she brought her mother inside and settled her, she rushed back to Papa James.
“Papa,” she said breathlessly, “my mother is here. Jeff brought her. Please thank your son for me.”
Papa James smiled slowly. “Angela, my daughter… your boss is good. But you… you are the reason goodness follows.”
Angela blinked. “Papa… you remembered my name.”
He nodded, eyes clearer than before. “The name stayed.”
Angela’s heart warmed.
But Mabel sensed the shift like a predator smelling change.
That evening, she returned home and marched into the kitchen, arms folded.
“So it’s true,” she hissed. “Jeff values you so much that he brought your mother here.”
Angela kept her voice polite. “Good evening, Ma.”
Mabel sneered. “Save it. Let me tell you what I found out. You and your mother used… juju on him.”
Angela turned slowly, face calm but dangerous.
“Madam,” she said, low and steady, “be careful.”
Mabel scoffed, but her eyes flickered with fear. “Or what?”
Angela leaned in, not touching her, but close enough that Mabel could feel the warning.
“If you lie about my mother again,” Angela said, “you will regret it.”
Mabel backed away quickly, her courage dissolving.
She fled the kitchen, whispering to herself that Angela was fire.
And in his room, Papa James chuckled softly like a man who had been praying for someone brave.
Then Jeff returned.
Unannounced.
His training ended early, but he told no one.
