Chapter 3
1180 Words
(SOPHIA POV)
I stood before the medium-sized mirror,
my dark hair was neatly tied back, my blouse tucked perfectly into my skirt.
I adjusted the collar, trying to look as presentable as possible, but I couldn’t shake the fatigue etched into my features.
From the next room, I heard my mother’s soft, soothing voice.
“James, please. Just a few bites, so you can take your medicine,”
she coaxed gently.
I closed my eyes briefly, willing myself to focus. You can’t be distracted now, I told myself.
Not today,
I inhaled deeply, drawing strength from the silence of my own resolve.
I was determined not to be late today.
When I was finally ready,
I grabbed my leather bag from the chair and slung it over my shoulder.
My perfume was heavy in the air as I turned to lock my room behind me.
As I stepped out into the front yard, the cool morning breeze brushed against my skin,
I spotted my father crouched near the side of the house.
I couldn’t quite see a broken stool, one of the many household items he refused to discard.
His once-broad shoulders sagged beneath a threadbare shirt that hung loosely on his frame. …
The sight of him made me sad, he looked so emaciated, so diminished, like a shadow of the man I once knew.
For a moment, I hesitated,
But I pushed it aside, walking toward him, while forcing a smile.
“Good morning, Dad,”
I greeted.
He straightened slowly,
“Morning, Sophia,”
he replied, his voice rough from years of unspoken worries.
I gestured toward the stool
“Is it broken again?”
He chuckled weakly.
“Always something to fix, isn’t there?”
He wiped his hands on his trousers, then looked at me more closely
“You’re all dressed up. Work again?”
I nodded before I stepped forward.
“Dad, I saw the eviction notice yesterday when I got home. I couldn’t sleep thinking about it.”
He sighed, his shoulders slumping further.
“I know, Sophia. I went out last night to see if I could find some help. That’s why I came back so late.”
His words took me by surprise.
I hadn’t even realized I hadn’t seen him return.
“Did you… did you find anyone willing to help us?”
I asked, my voice trembling slightly.
He shook his head,
“Not yet. But I’ll keep trying. We’ll figure something out, Sophia. We always do.”
I bit my lip, fighting back the sting of tears. I wanted to believe him, but it was difficult, knowing the state of things.
Before I could respond, a scream from inside made me jolt, it was my mother's voice and she was calling my brother's name.
“James!.. James…Help! Someone, help!”
My father and I froze, our eyes locking in shared horror for a second before we sprang into action.
“Mom! What is it?!”
It was close to noon when the taxi pulled up outside my shop.
I stepped out of the sedan hurriedly, fumbling with my bag as the driver sped off, leaving a cloud of exhaust behind.
My hair was scattered, loose strands sticking to my damp forehead.
I didn’t bother to fix it; I had already wasted too much time.
Another late arrival at work….two consecutive days now.
My heart sank.
I couldn’t help it.
We had rushed James to the hospital that morning, his limp body cradled in my mother’s trembling arms, waiting anxiously until the doctors stabilized him.
Only after hearing that he was out of immediate danger did I muster the strength to leave.
The feedback from the hospital would come later.
For now, I had another battle to fight.
I adjusted my bag over my shoulder and started heading toward the shop’s glass doors, preparing myself for the confrontation.
But just as my hand reached out to push the door open, I froze.
A car parked some distance away caught my attention.
It wasn’t really the car itself that made me pause….it was the man inside.
He was seated in the driver’s seat, his head tilted slightly as if he were observing something across the street.
I squinted, trying to make out more details.
Was it someone I knew? Or was my overworked mind playing tricks on me?
Against my better judgment, I took a tentative step closer.
The man didn’t move, but something about the way he sat, so still and commanding, sent a shiver down my spine.
Why does he feel so familiar?
I took yet another step closer.
Before I could make out his face, the sound of a door slamming snapped me back to reality.
I turned sharply to see my boss stepping out of the shop, her expression as sour as ever.
“You?”
She sneered
Her eyes raking over me, taking in my rumpled appearance with a mixture of disdain and irritation.
I straightened instinctively, smoothing my shirt with trembling hands.
“Good morn…sorry good afternoon ma’am,”
I stammered.
“Afternoon?” he repeated, raising an eyebrow.
“You mean good noon, don’t you?”
Her tone dripped with sarcasm, and I felt my cheeks flush.
“I’m sorry ma’am” I said quickly
“There was… an emergency at home. My brother….”
She held up a hand, cutting me off.
“Save it. I don’t want to hear excuses. You’ve been late twice in a row now, and I’ve had to cover for you. This is a business, not a charity. For your own good ensure I don't see a repeatition. You're lucky I am in a good mood today”
I swallowed hard.
“I understand. It won’t happen again.”
“It better not,” she snapped,
her gaze accessing on me for a moment longer before she turned and walked back inside, leaving the door ajar.
I stood to catch my breath for a moment, my heart beating so fast.
When I glanced back at the car, the man was gone.
The driver’s seat was empty, and the sense of familiarity that had gripped me earlier faded into the background.
With a heavy sigh, I pushed open the shop door and stepped inside,
The image of that mysterious figure remained in my mind, a question that refused to be silenced.
Who was he? And why did he feel like a ghost from my past?
With a shrug, I bent down, picking up my bag and the few things I had hurriedly set aside earlier. The fabric of my dress crinkled slightly as I adjusted my stance, shifting my weight from one foot to the other.
The evening air was tender against my skin as I turned, my fingers tightening around the straps of my bag.
Whatever just happened, I couldn’t dwell on it now.
Pushing open the shop door, I stepped inside, the soft chime overhead announcing my return. The scent of fabric, thread, and faint traces of perfume settled around me like a dew evenly spread.
- Writer
