Morning sunlight poured through the curtains, soft and golden.
Abuja was already stirring awake. The scent of fried akara drifted in from the street as horns blared distantly, and neighbors called greetings over fences.
This was one of the joys of Christmas period. Every neighbor was always at home, and you could feel the joy, relaxation, and camaraderie in the air.
Inside the Moses mansion, breakfast was chaos.
Plates clattered, Sophia complained about her phone battery, Ian slumped with bed hair, and Mrs. Moses barked orders at no one in particular.
The scene was almost comical, it was beauty in chaos. Sam and Kayla exchanged a look across the table; she squeezed his hand under the cloth.
"Now," he whispered.
Sam cleared his throat. "Uh… everyone," he called. "Me and Kayla, we have something to share."
Heads turned as Mrs. Moses stopped her complaints for just a heartbeat, curiosity on her face, but there was also a subtle warning on her face that this dare not be a prank.
