JENETA'S POV... One year later.
A sharp slap shattered the quietness of the tiny living room, followed by my heavy breathing.
"How dare you! How can you stand there and say you don't have any money left? It's a week! One week until they send us back to Nigeria!" My mother's voice cracked with fury and something almost like fear, but it was her wide, bloodshot eyes boring into me. I hated when she looked at me that way.
I stood, feeling the fabric of my black polo cling to my skin, my matching shorts cutting just above mid-thigh. My voice came out low and bitter, like a dam barely holding back an overflow of emotions.
"You heard me," I said, my words cut sharp. "I said I don't have any more money left! Everything I've ever earned, you and your son, Akachi drained it all. There's nothing left. Nothing!"
Mother gasped, her sharp intake of breath jagged and her lips twisting into a disbelieving sneer as tears threatened to spill. "Still lying? After everything? You stand there and say such things to my face?"
Before I could respond, a low, groggy voice interrupted me. "What's going on?" My brother, Akachukwu—Akachi for short, stepped from the narrow hallway, shoulders hunched and face weary. He rubbed his eyes, blinking at the scene unfolding before him.
Mother immediately thrusted a letter toward him, her hands trembling. "Here. Read it. Read what they said. If we don't pay the ten thousand dollars, they'll send us away. Do you hear me? Away!"
Akachi frowned, snatching the paper from her hands.
I sighed heavily. "That's... we just need to renew the—"
"Shut up!" Akachi's voice cut, silencing me. His irritation flaring as if my words cut through his already frayed nerves. He glanced at me as if I were an insect buzzing too close to his ear.
His eyes narrowed as they scanned the letter. Then, with deliberate slowness, he turned to me, anger in his gaze.
"When are you going to fix this? It's the three of us, isn't it? Two thousand each from you, from me, from her. That's nothing for someone like you." His mouth curled. "It's chicken change for you. Pay it! And have you forgotten how to send money? My account's been empty for weeks."
I exhaled sharply, frustration spilling over. "I told you. I don't have anything left. I sent you everything I had last time. That was it."
Akachi's jaw tightened, his lips pressing into a thin line. "What? You mean we can't pay rent? Are you serious right now? What is all this nonsense?"
Before anyone could say another word, my mother crumpled to the floor. Her wail pierced the room, raw and guttural, each sob shaking her frail frame. "Oh, God! If only my husband were alive... If you hadn't killed him, we wouldn't be like this. We wouldn't be begging for crumbs. You killed him, Jeneta! You killed him! Now we are begging for crumbs!"
The words struck me harder than the slap earlier. My breath caught in my throat, my entire body freezing as the accusation landed. It was a cruel, familiar dagger, always finding its way back to my heart. The blood drained from my face, my hands trembling as my mother's sobs filled the room like a haunting melody. No, it was a haunting melody.
Akachi crumpled the letter and hurled it at my feet, his eyes glowing with rage, burning and threatening to consume everything.
"Find a way to fix this," he growled, his voice low and dangerous. "I don't care how. Just fix it." Without another glance, he bent to hold our mother in his arms, his expression softening only slightly as she clung to him.
I stood there, frozen, long after they had left the room. I stared blankly at the crumpled letter on the floor, their words pressing down on my chest like an iron chain.
The next afternoon, I sat at a corner table in a bustling café. Although, I could hear the noise of chatter and soft clinking mugs swirling around me. I tried to focus on my friends discussion, but their words drifted in and out of my consciousness, my thoughts had become too tangled to make sense of their excitement.
"You're coming, right?" Ivy Hong, a fellow model with her signature red lipstick and perfectly styled hair, leaned closer as her voice cut through my fog.
I blinked, forcing a smile. "Huh? Of course. Isn't it next week?"
Ivy grinned, tossing her hair over her shoulder. "I knew you'd never leave me hanging. Bali won't be the same without you." She patted my hand, her laugh light and carefree as she turned back to the others.
My smile faded the moment Ivy looked away. The idea of another trip seemed like a cruel joke. I couldn't even afford rent, much less a vacation. As the minutes passed, my friends left one by one, leaving me alone at the table, my thoughts grew louder than the bustling café.
Then door creaked open, and a gust of cool air swept through the room.
Faye Yang, my best friend walked in like a vision, stealing every breath and glance without trying. She wore a sleek, sculpted black dress that clung to her like liquid darkness, her silhouette elegant and dangerous all at once. The gold clasps on her thin straps caught the light. Her long, jet-black hair flowed like ink down her back, parted slightly to one side, half-veiling a face carved in quiet fury and beauty. Faye spotted me instantly. Her sharp features softened slightly as she approached, sliding into the chair next to me.
"You look like a dead rat. What happened?" she asked.
I hesitated. "I need a job."
Faye's perfectly arched brow shot up. "You have a job. What are you talking about?" She laughed, but her amusement faded when she caught the shimmer of tears in my eyes. "Shit. Jenny... what's going on?"
I let out a weak laugh as I quickly wiped my cheeks. "I'm broke, Faye. I need money."
Faye blinked in disbelief, her perfectly painted lips parting as though she couldn't quite process what she'd just heard. I couldn't either, but there was no one I could go to for help.
"You can't—" she froze, astonished. Faye took a deep breath, I could see the way her chest rose and fell. "What are people going to say if they see you working in a café or something like that? You've built a name for yourself, Jenny. You're a top model," she said, her voice wavering slightly as she blinked rapidly, clearly trying to keep tears from ruining her flawless makeup.
I sighed deeply, my shoulders sinking. "I know, but I'm desperate. My fam—" I stopped myself, shaking my head to dismiss the thought. How could Faye, the only daughter of the Yang Group, understand my situation? There was no point in explaining further. She hadn't lived a day in my shoes.
"I've told you before," Faye began. "You can always come work for me. Why don't you want to? It's not like I haven't offered. Who says I shouldn't hire my best friend to run my fashion show? I don't care."
I let out a small, tired laugh. "I've already done that for you, Faye."
"Please," Faye said with a dramatic roll of her eyes. "That was for free, and you refused to take any money for it. You're the most stubborn person I know!" She gestured animatedly, her gold bracelets clinking softly as she moved.
I stared at her. I was desperate so desperate that I felt like I was drowning. The idea of working for Faye, of throwing away my pride and letting her see how far I had fallen, gnawed at my insides. Would she look down on me? Would it change our friendship? I couldn't bear the thought. But then again, was my pride worth more than my family's survival?
The waiter approached quietly, placing a plate of cheesecake in front of us. I watched as Faye dug into hers absentmindedly, taking small, elegant bites. She didn't even notice the way my gaze lingered.
My mind drifted as I observed her. Faye always had this effortless shine, a glow that seemed to come naturally to people born into wealth. Even with all the money I had made in modelling. I had never dressed or carried myself the way she did. Our worlds were leagues apart. Faye was the daughter of a billionaire, yet she had chosen to walk alongside me back in school, never treating me differently despite our financial gap. That was how we had grown to love each other. A loyal, fiercely and protective friendship.
Faye's phone buzzed, pulling her attention away from the cheesecake. She picked it up without hesitation, her voice oozing with confidence as she spoke to whoever was on the other end. Even as she talked, she continued to eat.
Faye's eyes lit up, her expression brightening as she glanced over at me. "Of course, I know someone who can help," she said into the phone, her lips curving into a small smile. "Don't worry about Feifei. She's the most humble person I know."
I tilted my head, curiosity flickering in my tired eyes. I leaned forward slightly, trying to piece together what Faye was talking about, even though she was still mid-conversation.
Finally, Faye ended the call and turned to me, her smile widening. "Guess what?" she said, her voice filled with excitement. "A friend of mine is leaving for London to do her master's degree. Her sister's going through a nasty divorce right now, and she needs someone to look after her kid. They just need someone to help out for a while."
"Huh?" My brows furrowed, confusion washing over me.
"A babysitter. I think a nanny," Faye clarified. "They need a nanny for at least two months. The pay? Fourteen thousand Yuan." She leaned back in her chair, a self-satisfied smirk spreading across her face as she tapped her phone. "Here's her contact."
I froze, my mind racing as I processed what Faye had just told me. Fourteen thousand Yuan? For babysitting? My phone vibrated a moment later, and I looked down to see the contact Faye had sent. My fingers trembled slightly as I stared at the screen.
Fourteen thousand Yuan in a month. I looked up at Faye, who was beaming at me as if she'd just solved all of my problems in a single phone call.