The kitchen smelled like onions and hot palm oil. It was barely 6:00 in the morning and the big house on the hill was completely still.
Roselene stood over the stove with a wooden spoon in her hand, but she was not stirring anything.
She was just standing there, her shoulders shaking, tears falling slowly from her chin into the bubbling pot below.
She did not hear the soft footsteps behind her. She had no idea she was no longer alone.
Derek Oi walked into the kitchen in his robe looking for water. He was a large man, well-built with gray beginning to touch his temples.
Everyone in the city knew his name. His construction company had built bridges, hospitals, and entire housing estates across the region.
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