CHAPTER THREE

Stepping into the house gives me an eerie feeling of déjà vu. Not much had changed since the last time I was here.

Photos of Sanders and his wife in their younger years still hung on the wall just above the fireplace, beside a photo of their adopted daughter. I noticed a new photo on the wall. It must have been taken some months ago because it still looked so new; Sanders was lying in what I presumed to be a hospital bed and his wife sat beside him, smiling for the camera.

I did not know Sanders had been sick so I looked to his wife and caught her wiping a tear from her eyes herself.

“Make yourself at home.” She croaked and dashed into the kitchen.

I did as she asked, settling into the settee that was before me. Mrs. Sanders was out in less than a minute and placed a cup of steaming coffee on the small table by my side.

I picked the cup gingerly and brought it to my lips, basking in the scent of cocoa seeds.

Once the coffee was into my system and I felt my head was clearer, I turned to my host.

“How have you been?” I asked.

Mrs. Sanders let out a small chuckle. “You know, here and there. Stuffing foam into wools I knitted for my grandson. That is all I can do now.

My eyes strayed back to the photos on the wall, looking for a grandchild whom I might have missed. I found him, he was about five and he looked so much like his mother.

She shifted close to me and held my hands. “You look like you’ve had a rough year.” She said,

I managed a small smile. “Very.”

“It has been five years already?”

I nodded. Mr. Sanders must have told her.

“And you couldn’t make him fall in love with you and change his mind?” she continued.

“A girl could only hope.”

She squeezed my hand – as if to tell me how sorry she was that I had to go through all that. When she let go of my hand, I felt naked, seen and embarrassed.

She stood up and walked into another room, appearing almost immediately with a brown manila folder in her hand. Once she sat beside me, she carefully handed it to me.

“You know,” she began slowly, never taking her eyes off the folder. “Sanders knew you would come.” A sad smile creased her wrinkled face and her eyes went up to mind. They were sad, and fresh tears bristled in them.

“He waited. But…” she trailed off. I saw the tears fall and I thought I understood what she tried to say. Mr. Sanders was gone. I was shocked so much that I could say nothing and do nothing, except stare at Mrs. Sanders as her shoulders heaved.

I took her hands in an effort to return the comfort which she had given me.

“I am so sorry.” It was all I could manage to say. A lot of thoughts went through my head at once that I couldn’t know where to begin.

Mrs. Sanders adjusted herself at once, taking control of her body as if she did not just fall apart. I was envious of the woman and her strength but sorry for her too. The things which may have happened to scar her so much that she could not allow herself to be weak.

When she looked at me again, the frail and weak old woman was gone. In her place, there stood the woman – confident and proud – that met me at the door just moments ago.

“Inside the folder is a list of all the properties your father had. As you already know, most of them had gone to your ex-husband’s family following your liquidation of your father’s company but Sanders kept some hidden. They’re all in there.” She nodded at the folder which I clutched in my hand.

“You should go through it. He knew you would come.” She smiled.

“Thank you.” I said.

“It is nothing. Your father was like family to Sanders and after his death, all Sanders wanted was to look after the only daughter he left behind.”

“But I never gave him the chance.” I said regretfully.

“You should not be yourself about this, child. You couldn’t have known that things would turn out this way. It is the way the world is.”

“But I could have been wiser.” I answered. “I could have listened to advice. I wouldn’t be here now.”

I clutched the file against my stomach. I was a fool and everyone would be correct if they called me that.

Mrs. Sanders sighed warily and got up from her seat.

“You were only a child. A child who just lost both her parents. You did the best you could.” Mrs. Sanders walked around the chair till she was behind me, then laid her small, wrinkled hand on my shoulder. “It is already late, spend the night with me. Then tomorrow, if you choose, you can leave.”

It was not a request, not from the way she said it. And I did need a roof to stay in for the night. The money I had would not cover a hotel room for one night and the streets would be too cold.

“I will go prepare the room for you.” She offered and disappeared again.

Later, in the small room – which I assume had belonged to their daughter when she still lived with them – Mrs. Sanders lent me, I burned the night going through the manila folder.

It was a copy of my father’s assets and companies which he had bought. I could understand most of the things and some that I couldn’t, I saved for later. I’ll go over them with a professional.

From the files – the ones I could understand – I found out that my father’s company had not been owing a dime as Andre and his family had made me believe. There may have been some siphoning of money from one of the company’s accounts to a subsidiary but nothing major.

I studied my father’s holdings and investments afterwards and nothing in it stated that my father’s company might be going under in the near future.

As I continued to read through the document, so did my anger continue to rise. Andre had played my foolishness very well. Used me and then dumped me after sucking me dry.

Sanders had been able to keep a few of my father’s properties off their noses but would amount to nothing now.

My heart pounded in my chest and my head could have burst into flames. I couldn’t wait for morning to come and watch the expression on Andre’s face when I slapped him with this document.

But when morning came, Mrs. Sanders was at my door. Like some police, to state my rights and put me under arrest.

“I know what is in your heart.” She announced rather coldly. “And you are not going to do it.”

“Why?” I hissed, almost screaming.

“Because that document is nothing. If you go against them with that, they will squash you and throw you away, probably take all that’s left from you and you’ll be left with nothing. You don’t have the resources that they have, they’re powerful, you’re not. You then you’re not more than an ant which they can just stomp. You’re nothing, nobody.”

“So, you suggest I just stay here and do nothing?” I shouted. “While they get rich and powerful with my money? My father’s money?” Never!” I spat.

Mrs. Sanders came in slowly and eased herself into the small bed. She sighed and looked up to meet my red eyes.

“I don’t suggest you do nothing, child. If you want to confront them, I will not stop you but I will not let you make the same mistake you made five years ago either. My husband loved your father very much and do you know his last words before he died?”

Her voice was small and shaky. I could see her fighting to stay strong not to give into the tears that welled in her eyes.

I sat down, feeling all the anger dissipate into the air.

“He said, " I couldn't save her. Help me. And that is what I intend to do. Till his dying moments, he thought of you. Probably felt bitter with himself because he couldn’t save you from going through all those experiences.”

She took the folder from me and waved it in my face. “This is nothing. Believe me, I know. If you show up to Andre with this, you’ll merely be letting them know that they have won. Yes, they got to you. You cannot go up against a tiger with just a club in your hands, you have to be prepared with the big bullets.”

I nodded. “So, what do I do?”

“Wait.” She answered. “This will be your leverage but you need more and you need to take care of that child first.” She pointed to my stomach.

I stared at her wide eyed. “How did – “

“It doesn’t matter how I know.” She said, cutting me off. “What matters is what you do from now on. Sanders was able to leave you with something from your father. That’s a start. You need to move from here, go somewhere far that Andre cannot reach you and begin a new life, take care of your kids and prepare. Once you’re prepared enough then you can confront him with hard evidence. Not this.”

“But how? I have no money. No connections, no life.” I said, exasperatedly.

“Don’t forget that you have me and you have this.” She said, returning the folder to my hands. “I have some money, it’ll be enough to transport you to a new place and to rent a new home but you will have to work. Can you do this?”

I nodded.

“Good. You will give birth to those children and you will work your butt off but never forget that you’re not alone. At my own end here, I will see how to turn your father’s properties into money and probably invest them.”

She looked into my eyes and I was thankful I met her. In her eyes I see the honesty of her words, true wisdom and love.

“Thank you.” I gushed.

“It is nothing.” She replied. “Sanders would probably have done more.”

“Still, it is more than I can ask for. More than I had yesterday.”