CHAPTER TWO: Gentle Hands

Saturday mornings in the Mofolawe household had always followed the same rhythm.

By seven o'clock, Chief Mofolawe would already be in the sitting room with his Bible and a cup of tea.

Mrs. Bisi would be in the kitchen, humming one hymn or another while breakfast simmered in the kitchen 

Somewhere upstairs, one of the girls would be arguing that it was still too early to wake up.

Today, there were no arguments. Only silence.

Derinsola opened her eyes and stared at the ceiling. For a few seconds, everything felt normal. Then she turned her head. The stained project lay exactly where she had left it. Orange streaks had dried across the pages.

Her chest tightened. She sat up slowly and reached for the papers. A page slipped from her hands and tore slightly as she gathered them. She closed her eyes.

“Wonderful.”

It had taken her three evenings to finish that project, three evenings of sleeping late. And now, It was ruined.

She knew Ire hadn't meant to spill the juice. What hurt was that everything she had worked for had disappeared in seconds. She sighed and rested her forehead against her knees. Then another thought found its way into her mind.

“I didn't have to speak to her like that.”

The words sat heavily on her heart. She wasn't ready to apologise. At least not yet. Downstairs, the aroma of fried plantains drifted through the house.

Mrs. Bisi placed another plate on the dining table before calling toward the staircase. “Breakfast is ready!”

A door opened upstairs. Then another. Gbemisola was the first to appear. She adjusted the sleeves of her blouse and greeted Mrs. Bisi with a warm smile.

“Good morning.”

“Good morning, my dear. You're working today?”

Gbemi nodded. “I'll be leaving in an hour.”

Before Mrs. Bisi could reply, the front gate creaked open.

She glanced through the window.

A familiar figure stepped into the compound carrying a medium-sized cardboard box. She smiled. "Ah... Nicholas." A moment later, the doorbell rang.

Mrs. Bisi wiped her hands on her napkin and opened the door. “Good morning, Ma Bisi.”

“Good morning, Nicholas.”

Nicholas held up the box. "Chief asked me to return these." Mrs. Bisi looked inside. Old family photo albums.

"You finished restoring them already?" He nodded.

“The last one needed a little extra work.”

She smiled warmly. “Come inside.”

As he stepped into the living room, Chief Mofolawe emerged from his study. “Nicholas.”

“Good morning, Sir.”

Chief accepted the box and carefully lifted one of the albums. “You've done an excellent job.”

“I only repaired what time tried to destroy.”

Chief looked at him thoughtfully. "You always say things that make me stop and think." Nicholas smiled modestly.

“I learned from a good teacher.”

Before Chief could respond, footsteps sounded on the staircase. Derin. She stopped halfway down when she noticed Nicholas. “Oh.”

He looked up and smiled. “Morning, Derin.”

“Morning.”

There was an awkward pause. Nicholas noticed the hesitation in her voice but chose not to mention it. Instead, he nodded toward the dining table. "I came at the right time." Mrs. Bisi folded her arms.

“You always do.”

“Purely by coincidence.”

She laughed softly. “I've known you too long to believe that.”

For the first time that morning, the corner of Derin's lips lifted into the faintest smile. It disappeared almost as quickly as it came. Breakfast passed quietly. When everyone had finished eating, Derin carried her empty plate into the kitchen.

She was rinsing it when a voice spoke behind her. "You've washed that plate three times." She turned.

Nicholas stood in the doorway, leaning lightly against the frame. “I don't remember inviting you into the kitchen.”

“No.”

“Why are you here?”

“I was looking for water.”

“Near the sink?”

He chuckled.

Familiar silence settled between them. Finally, Nicholas spoke. “Your eyes look sad.”

Derin kept her gaze on the running tap.

“My project is ruined.”

Nicholas nodded. “I know.”

“I spent so much time working on it.”

“I know.”

She let out a quiet sigh. "And... I said things I shouldn't have to Ire" Nicholas didn't answer immediately. He leaned against the kitchen counter, giving her the space to think. When he finally spoke, his voice was gentle.

“So... what do you want to do now?”

Derin reached over and turned off the tap. She drew in a slow breath. “Fix things.”

Nicholas raised an eyebrow.

“My project...”

A small smile tugged at the corner of her lips. “...and Ire, of course.”

Nicholas smiled.

“Sounds like a good place to start.”

Neither of them spoke again.

Sometimes, the best conversations didn't need many words and the kindest thing a friend could offer wasn't advice, it was the freedom to tell the truth without fear of being judged.

Outside, the sound of a car engine drifted into the compound. Mrs. Bisi looked through the window. A broad smile spread across her face. She clasped her hands together.

“Chief...”

"What is it?" he asked.

“I think your brother is here.”

The atmosphere in the house shifted. Even before the knock came at the door.