Henry lay sprawled across his bed, one arm tucked behind his head while the other held his phone lazily above him. His room was quiet, save for the occasional burst of laughter that escaped his lips.
"Guy, you're actually serious?" he said into the phone, a grin spreading across his face. "You? Apologize? That'll be the day."
A chorus of voices echoed faintly from the other end, filled with teasing and banter.
"Abeg, don't even try it," Henry continued, shaking his head. "If she's angry, let her stay angry. You didn't kill anybody."
More laughter followed.
He shifted slightly on the bed, stretching his legs.
"Anyway, I'll text you guys later. I'm tired."
He ended the call and tossed the phone beside him, exhaling softly as the laughter faded from his face.
Just then—
A soft knock.
Before he could respond, the door creaked open.
"Hey, Mum… you're back?" Henry said, pushing himself up slightly.
Mrs. Sampson stepped into the room, her movements calm but slightly weary from the day's work. She sat at the edge of the bed, letting out a quiet breath.
"Yes, I just got back."
Henry studied her for a moment, then frowned faintly.
"Mum… there's something I've been meaning to ask."
She glanced at him.
"What is it?"
"You didn't tell me you were planning to employ a maid," he said, his tone carrying a hint of irritation. "And not just that—you brought in a complete stranger into this house."
Mrs. Sampson sighed softly.
"I'm sorry, Henry. It slipped my mind. You know how busy things have been lately. I barely have time for anything else."
Henry sat up properly now, his expression sharpening.
"But this isn't just anything, Mum. This is our house. You should have at least told me first—heard what I had to say."
"I understand," she replied calmly. "But I had to make a decision. I need help around the house, and she seemed like the right person."
Henry let out a low scoff.
"Mum, most of these maids are thieves… witches… even family breakers. Why would you bring that kind of person into this house?"
Mrs. Sampson's expression changed immediately, her gaze steady.
"What kind of person is she?" she asked firmly.
Henry didn't hesitate.
"She's annoying… local… dirty… and ugly."
The words came out cold, laced with unfiltered disdain.
For a brief moment, silence hung in the air.
"Henry!" Mrs. Sampson snapped, her voice sharp with disapproval. "That is completely unacceptable."
But Henry only shrugged, completely unmoved.
"I'm just being honest, Mum. You brought her here, not me."
Mrs. Sampson drew in a slow breath, steadying herself.
"Then listen carefully," she said, her tone firm and unwavering. "As long as she is in this house, you will treat her with respect. I will not tolerate this kind of behavior from you."
Henry leaned back slightly, his expression indifferent.
"That sounds like your rule," he muttered. "Not mine."
A flicker of disappointment crossed Mrs. Sampson's face.
"I didn't raise you to behave like this."
The words lingered.
Then she stood.
"Dinner is ready," she added quietly before walking out of the room.
In the dining area, Ella moved quietly, her presence almost unnoticed.
She arranged the dishes carefully, ensuring everything was in place. Her movements were gentle, controlled—like someone who had learned to exist without drawing attention.
Mrs. Sampson watched her, a soft smile forming.
"You've done well, Ella."
Ella nodded slightly, her gaze lowered.
"Thank you, ma."
"Go and serve yourself," Mrs. Sampson said kindly. "Come and sit with me."
Ella froze, her hands pausing mid-motion.
"Sit… here?" she asked, uncertain.
"Yes," Mrs. Sampson replied. "You're part of this house."
Ella hesitated.
"Ma… I can eat in the kitchen. It's okay."
"Of course it is."
The voice was cold.
Both of them turned.
Henry stood at the entrance, his eyes fixed on Ella.
"Mum, let's not start this," he said as he walked in. "A maid is a maid. There's no need to change anything."
Mrs. Sampson's expression hardened.
"She is a human being, Henry."
He let out a quiet laugh.
"Then treat her like family if you want. But don't expect me to."
Ella shifted uncomfortably.
"It's okay, ma," she said softly. "I'll just eat in the kitchen."
Mrs. Sampson turned to her immediately.
"No. Sit down."
Her voice left no room for argument.
Slowly, Ella obeyed.
"Thank you, ma," she murmured as she sat carefully.
They began to eat.
After a few moments, Mrs. Sampson smiled.
"This is delicious, Ella. Where did you learn how to cook like this?"
Ella looked up slightly, a small smile forming.
"My mum taught me… I started learning when I was very young."
"That's wonderful," Mrs. Sampson said warmly.
Then—
A sharp sound broke the moment.
Henry dropped his spoon.
"I'm done."
Mrs. Sampson frowned.
"So soon?"
"I lost my appetite."
"You can't waste food like that," she said. "Do you know the effort she put into making this?"
Henry stood up.
"Mum, I said I'm not hungry."
His gaze flicked briefly toward Ella.
"And I still don't see why she needs to sit here."
"That's enough, Henry!" Mrs. Sampson snapped.
Silence fell.
Ella lowered her head, her fingers tightening slightly.
Mrs. Sampson softened.
"Don't mind him, Ella."
Ella forced a faint smile.
"It's okay, ma… I'm used to it."
Henry paused for a second… then walked away.
After dinner, Mrs. Sampson spoke again.
"Ella, when you're done, take his food to his room."
"Yes, ma."
Ella picked up the plate carefully and headed toward the stairs.
Each step felt heavier than the last.
This house…
It wasn't going to be easy.
And neither was the boy waiting upstairs.
Because from the moment he saw her....
Henry has already decided ...
That he would never accept her.
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