As the car glided smoothly through the intersection, Annette flicked the indicator and veered off the main road, turning into a quieter, tree-lined avenue. The sudden shift in the surroundings was palpable-from worn-out tarmac and cluttered signage to pristine lanes flanked by manicured hedges and towering, wrought-iron gates.
They had entered a residential estate that exhaled wealth with every square meter. Cream-colored villas with sprawling balconies peeked behind ornate fences, each one more grandiose than the last. Polished driveways shimmered under the afternoon light, adorned with high-end SUVs and luxury sedans parked like trophies.
Sophie blinked, her brows drawing together slightly.
She sat up straighter in the front seat, instinctively adjusting her blouse. Her eyes followed the grand architecture flashing by-the European facades, opulent gardens, and private security booths every few meters.
Her voice, when it came, was tinged with both disbelief and restrained curiosity.
"You stay here?"
Annette didn't respond.
Sophie turned slightly toward her, as if needing to see her expression to believe what was happening. 'Annette?" she repeated. "Is this where you live now?"
But again, nothing.
Annette merely tapped the steering wheel lightly with her index finger, her expression unreadable, her silence deliberate.
They drove deeper into the estate, the homes growing even more palatial, the air seeming to hum with quiet affluence. Sophie swallowed hard. She could feel the gap-not just in income, but the story she thought she knew about this woman.
And in that silence, Sophie began to wonder: What else had Annette kept hidden behind that composed face and modest demeanor?
Her face was neutral, her eyes fixed on the road ahead. The only sound in the car was the hum of the engine and the soft whirr of the air conditioning.
The car slowed as they approached a stately black gate adorned with intricate golden filigree that shimmered softly under the waning sunlight. It wasn't just a gate-it was a statement. Tall ,regal, and tastefully imposing, it parted two vine-laced walls, guarded by polished stone lions crouched at each corner like silent sentinels.
As they rolled to a stop, the security booth window slid open. A uniformed watchman stepped out briskly, recognizing the vehicle at once. His face broke into a respectful grin.
"Boss Lady," he greeted, a slight bow accompanying the tittle, his voice warm with familiarity. "Karibu nyumbani."
Annette offered a tired smile in return. "My day was far from good, Mogaka. But let's hope it gets better, yeah?"
"Always does," he replied with confidence, pressing a button on his belt panel.
The gate opened smoothly, without a sound-a seamless ballet of engineered elegance.
As the car glided in, the estate inside revealed itself like a secret garden-paved pathways of patterned stone, hedges clipped to geometric perfection, and white marble sculptures tucked among the blooms.
Then came the house.
A sleek, modern mansion stood proudly in the centre of the compound, it's design marrying minimalism with quiet grandeur. Floor-to-ceiling tinted windows reflected the setting sun, and a floating staircase curved along one side like something out of an architectural magazine. The driveway led to a modest fleet of high-end vehicles parked in coordinated symmetry.
Annette brought the car to a gentle stop beside a sleek matte-black coupe, its surface gleaming like obsidian. Its distinctive open-top design, slightly ajar, made Sophie's breath hitch.
It was the same car. The luxury machine Annette had driven that day to their home-when she'd come to see Asta. She hadn't said much then, but now, it's presence spoke volumes.
Annette stepped out gracefully and moved around to the other side. She opened the passenger door with casual finesse, a quite gesture of hospitality.
Sophie hesitated a moment, still taking in her surroundings as though reality had tilted slightly on its axis. She helped Asta gently sit up.
He rubbed his eyes groggily and blinked at the house towering before him.
"Where is this place, Mummy?" he asked, his voice soft and awed.
Sophie struggled to find the right words. She glanced up at the home again, then down at Annette, who offered no explanation-only a calm glance.
She looked back at the black coupe, its gold-trimmed rims catching the light, and swallowed hard.
There was clearly more to Annette than she had ever let on.
Just as they were about to head toward the front entrance, a middle-aged woman emerged from a side path lined with potted hibiscus. Her steps were quick, purposeful, softened by a pair of worn blue rubber slippers slapping gently against the cobbled walkway. A bright leso was tied tightly her waist, printed with cheerful kitenge patterns, and her head was wrapped in a faded kitambaa, knotted neatly at the side. Despite the casual attire, she carried herself with an air of confidence and maternal authority.
Her face lit up the moment she spotted Annette.
"Ooh my darling Annette, you're back," she exclaimed, wiping her hands on her leso and hurrying forward, "I was so worried when you rushed out like that- didn't even tell me where you were going!"
Annette's face broke into a smile as warm as the late afternoon light. "I'm here now, Wamary. Everything's alright."
The woman's eyes shifted to Sophie and Asta, her brows arching slightly in curiosity. She studied them for a quiet moment, confusion flickering in her gaze.
Annette, noticing, gently filled in the silence. "Wamary, this is Asta-and his stepmother, Sophie. The ones I told you about."
"Ahh," Wamary said with a bright nod of recognition. Her face softened as she stepped closer and gave a small wave to Sophie. "Karibu sana, my dear," she said with genuine warmth, then bent slightly and cupped Asta's cheek with a smile. "Your eyes... they're just like your mother's."
Sophie shifted subtly at those words, but said nothing.
Straightening, Wamary turned back to Sophie, extending her hand graciously. "I'm Annette's house manager, as you heard. My name is Wamary. I keep things in order here-she doesn't like chaos."
"Shukrani,"Sophie replied, her tone polite, but her mind still spinning.
Annette gave a small nod toward the car. "Wamary, there's a hospital bag at the back seat. Could you take it in for Asta?"
"Of course," Wamary said, already moving with practiced efficiency.
They stepped into the house-and Sophie found herself caught between awe and quiet discomfort.
The interior unfolded before them like a magazine spread. Rich shades of brown dominated the palette-from the polished mahogany floorboards to the deep, chocolate-toned suede couches arranged in a tasteful L-shape around a glass coffee table. Creamy white throw pillows with golden embroidery softened the scene, while elegant white drapes trimmed in bronze hung from ceiling-high windows, gently billowing with the breeze.
Everything felt composed. Thoughtful. Lived-in yet impeccable.
Even the scent of the house-a blend of vanilla, cedarwood, and something faintly citrusy-was calming.
Sophie took it all in with wide eyes. Her gaze moved to a textured wall where minimalist art in neutral tones hung in clean symmetry. Her feet sank into a thick, mocha-coloured rug. Her fingers briefly brushed the armrest of the couch-it felt like velvet.
And then, It hit her.
Brown.
The same warm, deep brown.
She glanced at Annette, who was now undoing Asta's jacket and smoothing his hair back affectionately. Her long dreadlocks, still rich brown with substile caramel strands, cascaded over her shoulders.
Sophie's mind flicked back to the first day they had met-Annette had worn a sharp brown suit then too. She had looked poised, self-contained, almost regal.
A soft, ironic smile curled Sophie's lips.
She murmured under her breath, almost to herself, "I guess brown must be her favorite color..."
Annette turned toward Wamary just as she set Asta's hospital bag neatly by the entryway cabinet.
"Please take care of them for a while," she said quietly, her voice calm but edged with something unreadable.
Wamary gave a respectful nod. "Of course, madam."
Without another world, Annette ascended the staircase, her movements graceful, deliberate. The polished wooden steps gleamed under the golden hallway lights, catching the soft click of her heels as she climbed. Her back remained straight, head held high, her long brown dreadlocks swaying gently behind her like a velvet curtain.
She didn't look back.
As she disappeared around the curve of the landing, a quiet hush settled over the living room, broken only by Asta's small yawn and the subtle hum of the central air. Sophie watched her go-something unreadable flickering behind her eyes-while Wamary gently reached for Asta's tiny shoes and helped him out of them.
The air held the weight of unsaid things.
And above them, a door clicked softly shut.
Wamary gently tapped Asta on the shoulder, her voice light and cheerful. "Come now, sweet one. Let me show you where you'll be staying."
Sophie followed her down a polished hallway, their footsteps softened by the plush beige runner that lined the floor. Elegant sconces glowed along the walls, casting warm shadows that flickered against framed art and soft textures.
They reached a tall white door with a bronze handle, and Wamary pushed it open with ease.
"This will be your room," she said, stepping aside to let them in.
The guest room was spacious and serene, decorated in soft earth tones with tasteful accents-cream drapes swaying lightly against walnut-colored walls, a king-sized bed with fluffy white linens, and a vintage-style lamp casting a golden halo across the velvet throw pillows.
Asta's eyes widened as he stepped in slowly, taking in the room. He clutched his soft toy tighter and turned to Wamary, voice small but clear.
"Are we sleeping here tonight?" he asked, blinking up at her.
Wamary knelt to his level with a gentle smile and smoothed his hair. "Yes sweetheart. This will be your room for tonight. It's very comfortable-you'll sleep like a prince."
Asta nodded, still wide-eyed, then clambered onto the edge of the bed, his small legs dangling as he leaned against Sophie.
Sophie, still holding her bag, offered Wamary a polite smile. "Thank you for your kindness."
Wamary straightened, waving it off casually. "You're welcome. If you need anything-warm water, extra sheets, anything at all-just let me know."
As she quietly excused herself , closing the door behind her with a soft click, Sophie sat down beside Asta on the bed. The air was still. Outside , the wind whispered through the hedges.
And for the first time that day, it felt like they could breathe.