"Anastasia, come back now; we have something to discuss."
When I reached home, I found my phone ringing with an unexpected caller—my aunt.
"I want you here by four, or else pack your bags and leave my house permanently," she barked before abruptly ending the call. I knew my moment of happiness was bound to be short-lived. It made me apprehensive, wondering what awaited me in the next moment, and whether it would bring tears of pain.
I placed the phone on the charger and turned to Samar. "Samar, I have to go back; my aunt called and warned me to return," I explained as I packed my things. "She'll throw me out of my own home; could you please drop me off?"
He nodded, his expression stern. "I'll take you, but if she dares to lay a hand on you, you call me immediately. Is that clear?" he commanded.
"Yes, my lord. I'll inform you if anything happens. But please, refrain from calling my aunt that name; she is an elder," I replied.
"What has she done to earn the title of 'elder,' Anastasia?" he asked, concern etched in his features. "Don't allow anyone to hurt you," he added, his voice firm. I nodded.
I blew him a flying kiss, which he caught and placed near his heart. I playfully pinched his cheek, and he feigned a dramatic reaction.
"Your hands are far too rough for my delicate skin," he teased, and I lightly tapped his head.
After packing our bags into his car, I took my seat. Samar drove me back to my house, and as I stepped out, I took a deep breath, bracing myself for the inevitable end of my fleeting happiness. I retrieved my bags from the trunk and approached my home.
My aunt's glare met mine, but beneath it, there danced an evil smirk. I was filled with terror; that smile was never a good sign, always an ominous harbinger of trouble.
"Ana, you've returned. Welcome back," she greeted with folded arms, a smirk playing on her lips. She took my bag and casually placed it on the floor.
"Ana, my darling niece, you worked so tirelessly to ruin my daughter's life, but..." she trailed off, fixing her gaze on me, "now I'll turn your life into a living nightmare!" she declared, her voice filled with malicious satisfaction.
Her laughter echoed through the entire house, sending shivers down my spine. She seized my hand, her sharp nails digging into my skin.
"Ahh!" I cried out in pain. She increased the pressure, drawing blood from my hands.
"Ana, you've returned," Layla chimed in, descending the stairs, a smile on her face. "I didn't expect you back after so many beatings. I thought you'd never return, but your persistence is commendable," she sneered. "Come, take a seat. Mom has something important to discuss," she instructed.
As she settled into a chair, we both turned our attention to Aunt, awaiting her "momentous" news.
"So, Anastasia, my dear niece, we've decided to close Ashley's shop, as Mrs. Spenser is selling her own," Aunt announced, her gaze fixed on me. My legs gave way; it was as if the ground had vanished from beneath me. I collapsed onto the floor, my mother's cherished dreams and memories shattering before my eyes.
"No, this can't be. It's not true," I protested, my voice tinged with desperation. "I won't let this happen. I won't let my mother's dreams be in vain," I implored, refusing to believe her words.
"I'll speak to Mrs. Spenser," I insisted.
"Ah, you're pleased with the surprise?" she taunted. "Have a splendid day, my dear niece," she added, laughing as she retreated to her room.
I fell to my knees; this couldn't be happening. I couldn't fathom that Mrs. Spencer was selling her shop. She knew how much it meant to me. It was all a lie.
I clutched my ears, trying to block out the reality, treating it like a dreadful nightmare. I had to talk to Mrs. Spenser.
With trembling limbs, I rushed out of the house, onto the streets, and towards the shop. Then, I saw her, Mrs. Spencer, closing the gate.
"Mrs. Spenser!" I called out. Her gaze met mine, but there was an unexpected emotion in her eyes.
"Mrs. Spenser, you can't be selling the shop. My aunt is lying to me," I pleaded, my hands still stinging from my aunt's grasp.
"Come with me, and tell my aunt that you're not selling the shop. Tell her that this shop still belongs to my mother," I sobbed, trying to take her with me. But she stopped me with a firm grip.
"Mrs. Spenser," I let go of her hands, meeting her eyes.
She was crying. Tears streamed down her face.
"Ana, my child, let me explain," she sobbed.
"What's there to say, Mrs. Spenser? Just tell my aunt you're not selling the shop," I implored, my voice laced with desperation. "I can't let my mother's dreams be destroyed before my eyes."
"I am selling my shop, Ana," Mrs. Spenser admitted, and I collapsed onto the road. Everything was over.
"I have to sell it, Ana. I don't have a choice. I have to sell it to Mr. Knight; my grandson is unwell, and my son lost all his money in gambling," she explained, holding my hand. I recoiled.
"I'm sorry, Ana, I'm so sorry. This shop is the last hope for me. I can't let my grandson's life be in danger. He's the only light in my life," she pleaded, trying to make me understand.
"Mrs. Spenser, it's over for me. I don't want to live anymore," I sobbed. "This shop was the only beacon of hope in my life. It was the closest thing to my heart."
I cried so hard that people passing by looked at us, but I didn't care. I had endured beatings, curses, and bullying, but I couldn't bear this. I couldn't let my mother's dreams crumble before me.
"My child, don't give up," she implored, holding onto my arms. I wiped my tears and looked at her.
"It's alright, Mrs. Spenser. I understand the importance of family, and I know what it means when they leave you in this cruel world," I assured her. I understood her situation. "Don't worry about me, Mrs. Spenser. Everything will be fine. Trust in God. Your grandson will be alright." I wiped her tears, and she nodded.
"You've done your part, and now it's my turn," I said with a smile before leaving. She returned to her home, and I went back to mine.
My aunt was celebrating her victory, and I was in tears, gazing at the family photo all night. I couldn't sleep. I tossed and turned in the cramped bed, racking my brain for a solution.
I needed to meet Mr. Knight. He was the man who had bought my shop. I had to find a way.
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