CHAPTER ONE

Six years later...

VENITA:

“Five more minutes. Five more minutes,” I constantly growled into my pillow. Still, I knew that I didn't have that luxury because my alarm was persistent. “Okay. Okay. Time to be productive.” Slamming the alarm to silence, I got out of bed, wrapping my robe around me.

The morning was still quiet and my eyes were heavy. Managing my steps, I walked out of my room and down the hall with a tender yawn. Keeping my voice gentle, I called out to Sasha. Rays of sunlight filtered through the curtains, casting a warm glow across her room.

“Baby girl, time to get up. We’re already late,” I whispered, leaning down and planting a kiss on her forehead before completely drawing her curtains open.

“Mom, do I have to?” she murmured, her protest a soft protest against the morning's demands.

“Yes, my dear. The day awaits, and we have much to prepare for,” I calmly said, sweetly smiling at my baby.

She was a miracle, difficult to explain. Especially how I conceived her. Still, I knew that through the mystery, I had to love and keep this life until there was an explanation. Even if I didn't end up getting one, I would close that chapter of my curiosity and move on. She was the best thing that has ever happened to me. Yes, most times, it was tough and demanding, yet, seeing her took away all my worries.

With a sigh that was shortly followed by a groan, Sasha gave in and woke up. She swung her legs over the side of the bed, stretching into wakefulness. “Alright, Mom. But don't expect me to be cheerful about it.”

“You know the rules, young lady.”

“A happy morning is a happy day,” she remembered.

After a whirlwind of dressing, breakfast, and the timeless stress of finding lost shoes, we stood at the threshold of my tiny vanity fair. I brushed a wisp of hair from Sasha's face, making sure her looks were right, my gaze full of maternal warmth. “Off to school, my love.”

While trying to adjust my hair by brushing it out, I caught a reflection of my eyes glowing. It was somewhere between golden and yellow. I shook my head to clear my mind because I was obviously seeing things. To my clarity, my eyes were okay. There was no way one's eyes could glow and also in such bright colors. I finished with my hair, parting it to the side.

Sasha's eyes sparkled with a hint of excitement that wasn’t present earlier. “Wait, Mom! I almost forgot. There's something important today. A philanthropist is visiting our school, and they want parents to come too.”

My eyebrows knitted together, a blend of surprise and mild annoyance shaping my expression, but I did a good job of hiding it. “Why didn't you mention this over the weekend? It's Monday, and I have a list of tasks as long as my arm.”

Sasha's shoulders sagged with guilt. “I'm sorry, Mom. I just… it slipped my mind.”

A soft sigh slipped from my lips as I tried to momentarily calm the anxiety of the morning's rush. "Sasha, remember, we're a team. Communication is key. Tell me things on time, so I can plan, ahead. Alright, love?”

“Yes, Mama.”

“Good girl,” I complimented before giving her a graceful kiss on the cheek. Arms crossed over my chest, I regarded her, Sasha's uneasy look telling me she was withholding more information. “Go ahead, sweetheart. What do you want to say?”

Sasha hesitated, her voice taking on a more hesitant tone. “Mom, there's something else. The kids at school, they've been teasing me about my clothes. They say I don't wear stuff as fancy as theirs.”

My heart ached at the admission. We couldn't afford luxury. I got most of our clothing at thrift stores. I drew Sasha closer, hugging and patting her back. “Oh, sweetheart, I'm so sorry to hear you're going through that. However, this is what we can afford now. I want you to be proud of what you have, whether it's expensive or not. Most of those kids use expensive clothing to cover their nastiness.”

Sasha's eyes, a reflection of vulnerability and longing, met my gaze. “Mom, I know it's not about clothes, but… could you wear something different today? So they don't make fun of us. An important person is coming, and I would rather not be any different, especially since I don't have a dad who would be coming with you.”

A pause, a heartbeat suspended in time, as I considered my daughter's plea. Then, a slow nod and a gentle smile. “For you, Sasha, I'll do it. But remember, your worth isn't determined by what you wear.”

This was my little way of making her happy, distracting her from further delving into the father's conversation. It was a sensitive one to me. A confusion I have been working hard to resolve. Who was her father, you might ask? I, myself, haven’t been able to resolve that mystery. My case shook a lot of people since I was a pregnant eighteen-year-old virgin who gave birth to a baby girl like her. How did I conceive her? I had no idea. I didn't even feel pregnant. I slumped one day and got rushed to the ER, only to wake up with a child I didn't know had lived nine months in me.

I have done many tests, hired investigators, and even put up ads with hospitals to carry out DNA tests in case there was something or someone I didn't know was responsible for this. All dead ends. I was this close to giving up. I would rather put all those resources into taking care of myself and my baby girl. Nothing more.

Sasha's gratitude shone like a beacon, a whispered “Thank you, Mom,” laced with unspoken emotion.

I squeezed her hand. Our bond was an unbreakable thread. She was my best friend when she was just five. “Let's face this day together, my brave girl.”

Sasha's smile was a sunrise breaking through the clouds, illuminating my morning. “Absolutely, Mom. Together.”

“Give me a minute, let me change.”

“Alright, mum,” she beamed.

It was easy to find another outfit since I had only a few clothes. This time, I went for something more professional, applying quick makeup to highlight my face and also hide the visible blemishes on it.

“What do you think of this one?” I asked Sasha, just to make sure she was okay with it.

“Mummy, you're so beautiful. I love it,” she squealed.

“Oh, thank you, baby. Here. Give me a kiss.” I bent to her level, receiving a sincere kiss on the cheek from her.

"Mum?" She called out when I withdrew from the hug.

"Yes, baby."

She pointed at my canines with wide eyes and trembling hands. "They're growing long," she informed me.

I used my tongue to swirl over my teeth and found out she was every bit of serious. Both my left and right top canines were hurting as they seemed longer than the length of my teeth.

Attempting to moan due to the pain, I heard a growl. An animalistic growl. "Wait here, baby." I made for the closet mirror at the entrance of the hallway and bared all my teeth out to see what was happening. There was nothing there. My teeth were normal.

I exhaled. I must be hallucinating. Must be the stress. If I was hallucinating, was my daughter too?

"Honey, there is nothing there," I told her as I approached, showing her my teeth at the same time.

We walked to the crappy car I packed somewhere around the corner, watching her jump in excitement as I opened the passenger's seat for her, locking in her seatbelt. Most times, I think about how my parents would have reacted to my situation. Would they have accepted us or rejected us if they were still alive?

An immediate feeling of sadness and nausea overwhelmed me as I briefly remembered what I had worked so hard to bury in the past.

"I'm normal. I'm not going crazy by seeing and feeling things that aren't there," I repeated to myself while walking to the other side of the car. I must take some time off to give my brain a break, I mentally noted. A lot has been going on with me and I had to stay strong to handle things.

Getting into the car, I said a brief prayer for today to go well before driving off.

The ride to her school was short and almost unnoticed, as she kept me company by talking me through the activities slated for the day. The visitor coming today must be a big shot for the whole school to be worked out.

“Mum, drop me off here. I will walk the rest of the way,” Sasha told me.

“No, baby. There's no way I'm letting you go in by yourself. I have…”

“Mum, please don't fight this.”

Giving in, “yes, baby.” Sometimes, she makes me forget that she was five due to her maturity. “Give me my good luck kiss.”

“Yes, mum.” I handed over her backpack and lunchbox to her before lowering my forehead for her to kiss. “Mum, please don't forget to attend the meeting by twelve. It will only be for an hour.”

“I still don't understand why your teacher didn't email this information to me. Or at least gave me a call.”

“Because I told her not to. That I will inform you.”

“Hmm…okay,” I dropped the subject. “Have a beautiful day. See you later.”

“You, too, mum.”

I watched Sasha hurriedly walk away from the car, her head bowed as a group of kids pointed and laughed at her. The sudden realization made my blood boil. My daughter was been bullied and she hasn't told me. Was this what all the fuss was about? This happened before in her previous school where I taught. She constantly got attention, saying that her privileges were because I worked there. We had to switch schools and I had to get a job away from her. There was no way those kids would get away with this.

When I angrily dragged my gaze away from those groups, my eyes landed on something that made me lose my composure. Two kids older than Sasha placed their legs in her way, causing her to trip and fall hard. That was the last straw.

Fuming, I got out of my car, about to teach her attackers a lesson they would never forget in a hurry, but, I stopped in my tracks out of surprise.

A man appeared out of nowhere and twisted the earlobe of both kids before saying something to Sasha, picking her up and carrying her in his arms. I feared for my daughter and broke into a sprint. However, Sasha rested her head on the man’s shoulder, her eyes showing that she wasn't scared. Rather, she trusted him.

I could mostly see his back, so it was difficult to make out what his face looked like. Studying his physique, I knew for sure that he was a total stranger whom I had never met in my entire life. So, why was my daughter not afraid of him? Has she not been paying attention to all the safety tips we have been studying, especially how to stay safe from men? Most importantly, who was this man who exuded so much authority and confidence in grabbing someone else’s child?

No matter how fast I walked, he was faster. Before I could reach them, he had carried Sasha into her class, gaining stares from all the kids.