I was out with Brian, holding hand in hand with him as we made to the dining table. I wished I could devise other means to walk with him other than hand-in-hand, because whenever I did it; I was so cautious of his next move.
Opula and his sisters were well seated with the father, while their husbands washed up in the poolroom. They had bottles of strong wine and dishes at the pool side, and it was as though they chose to dine separately today.
“What arrant nonsense! What the hell is this?” Opula snapped upon catching sight of us.
All eyes came on us instantly, and I lowered my gaze in shame, knowing the reason she was yelling at me.
Widening her gaze at me, she queried yet further, “Why would you present my brother in such ragged clothes? Father, can you imagine! This poverty-stricken
