The door creaked open slowly.
Ella stepped in, her fingers tightening slightly around the tray she held. The soft clink of the plates was the only sound that followed her into the room.
Henry didn't look up.
His presence alone made the air feel heavy.
"I brought your food," Ella said quietly, her voice careful, almost afraid.
Silence.
Then—
"Get out."
The words were cold. Sharp. Final.
Ella's steps faltered.
She stood there, unsure, her heart beating faster than it should.
"But… you haven't eaten since morning," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "And now again—"
"Are you deaf?"
Henry's voice cut through her words like a blade.
He finally looked at her, irritation flashing across his face.
"Are you my mother?" he continued harshly. "Who gave you the right to tell me when to eat?"
Ella felt her throat tighten.
"I… I'm sorry," she stammered. "I was just trying to take care of you."
For a second, there was silence.
Then Henry laughed.
A low, mocking sound that made her chest ache.
"Take care of me?" he repeated, his lips curling in disdain. "You?"
His gaze slowly swept over her, filled with nothing but contempt.
"You should worry about yourself first," he added. "Look at you… your life is a mess."
Ella froze.
"You need fixing," he finished coldly. "Not me."
The words struck deeper than she expected.
She didn't respond.
Couldn't respond.
Her fingers tightened around the tray for a moment before she gently placed it on the table.
Without another word, she turned and walked out.
The moment the door closed behind her—
Her composure shattered.
Tears spilled freely down her cheeks as she hurried down the hallway, her vision blurring.
By the time she reached her room, she couldn't hold it in anymore.
She collapsed onto her bed, her body shaking as quiet sobs escaped her lips.
It hurt.
More than it should.
Maybe it was the way he spoke.
Maybe it was the truth hidden in his words.
Or maybe…
She was just tired.
Tired of pretending.
Tired of enduring.
Tired of everything.
The sound of the door opening pulled her out of her thoughts.
"Ella?"
Mrs. Sampson's voice was gentle, filled with concern.
Ella quickly wiped her face and sat up.
"I'm fine, ma," she said, forcing steadiness into her voice.
Mrs. Sampson stepped closer, her brows knitting slightly.
"Don't lie to me," she said softly. "Your eyes are swollen. You've been crying."
"I said I'm fine," Ella replied, managing a faint smile. "Do you need anything?"
Mrs. Sampson sighed.
"I just came to check on you," she said. "You've been working all day. You should rest."
Ella nodded.
"Yes, ma."
Mrs. Sampson studied her for a moment longer before speaking again.
"Try to sleep early tonight," she added. "You need it."
"Okay, ma. Goodnight."
"Goodnight, Ella."
She turned and left the room quietly.
Silence filled the space once more.
Ella lay back on the bed, staring blankly at the ceiling.
Her chest still felt heavy.
Sleep didn't come easily.
The next morning came with a calm that felt almost deceptive.
Mrs. Sampson walked down the stairs, her phone pressed to her right ear while her left hand held a glass of orange juice. A soft laugh escaped her lips as she spoke, clearly in a light mood.
Reaching the dining area, she ended the call and sat down.
Just then, Ella stepped out of the kitchen with a tray of food.
"Ella, do you need help?" Mrs. Sampson asked gently.
Ella shook her head quickly. "No ma… I'm fine."
"Alright. Let me know if you need anything."
"Yes ma."
There was a brief pause before Ella spoke again.
"Ma… are you going to work today?"
Mrs. Sampson leaned back slightly. "Not now. Maybe later. There isn't much to do at the office."
"Oh… okay ma," Ella replied softly as she arranged the food.
Just then, Henry walked down the stairs and headed straight to the dining table. He pulled out a chair and sat down casually.
"Good morning, mum."
"Good morning," Mrs. Sampson replied.
"Breakfast is ready," Ella said.
Henry nodded slightly. "I was actually very hungry. That's why I rushed downstairs."
Mrs. Sampson gave him a look. "Well, that's your fault. You didn't eat dinner yesterday."
Henry shrugged. "I lost my appetite. Anyway, can we stop talking and eat?"
Mrs. Sampson sighed lightly. "Alright. Ella, please dish the food."
Ella nodded and stepped forward. She served Mrs. Sampson first, then moved toward Henry.
"I can serve myself," Henry said coldly.
Ella paused. "Alright."
She turned to leave, but—
"Ella," Mrs. Sampson called.
Ella stopped immediately.
"Please… come and sit with us."
Ella hesitated. "Ma… it's okay—"
"I insist," Mrs. Sampson said gently.
After a moment, Ella slowly returned and sat at the edge of the chair, careful and unsure.
Henry glanced at her briefly but said nothing.
They began to eat.
After a few bites, Mrs. Sampson paused, her face lighting up.
"Ella… this food is really delicious."
Ella looked up, surprised. A small smile appeared on her lips.
"Thank you, ma."
Mrs. Sampson nodded, impressed. "What's the secret?"
Ella shook her head slightly. "There's no secret, ma… it's just grace."
Mrs. Sampson smiled warmly.
Then her expression turned thoughtful.
"Ella…"
"Yes, ma?"
"I made a promise to your mother… that I would take care of you and give you a better future."
Ella's gaze softened.
"I've been thinking about it for a while now," she continued. "And I've decided that I want to enroll you in a good school."
Ella blinked. "A good school…?"
"Yes."
A brief pause followed.
Then—
"I want you to attend Henry's school."
The words settled heavily in the air.
Silence followed.
Not the peaceful kind… but the kind that felt tight, uncomfortable—
Like something was about to break.
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