Romans de Aseidu Nicky

NAYA'S POVThere were no flowers, no music, no family sitting in rows. No one was crying happy tears or whispering to each other about how beautiful everything looked. No white arch or candles or soft lighting.It was a small room with a long table, three chairs and a window that looked out onto an empty car park. Mr. Cole was standing at the head of the table holding a document, and reading from it in the same flat tone he might use to summarize a quarterly report."We are gathered to witness the legal union between Lucien Knight and Naya Whitlock," he said.I sat in the chair to Lucien's left. He sat straight, both hands resting on the table, his face showing nothing. He had not looked at me since I came in. He was staring straight ahead the way a person looks when they are already thinking about something else.I rubbed my fingers together in my lap. They were cold.Legal union. It wasn't a marriage of husband and wife.Mr. Cole placed the document in front of Lucien and pointed to

NAYA'S POVThe documents were laid out on the table in front of me. Mr. Cole sat across, watching me quietly. He did not rush me. He was patient.I read through every line of the contract again.Marriage. One year. Confidential. Monthly allowance. All medical expenses covered. Live together in the residence of Lucien Knight. Attend public events as his wife. No romantic relationships outside the marriage. No disclosure to third parties.My finger rested on the edge of the paper."Once I sign this," I said, "the hospital gets the money immediately?""Immediately," he confirmed. "The transfer will go directly to the billing department.""And the surgery can be scheduled right after?""Yes."I stared at my name printed neatly at the bottom of the last page. The space beside it was empty, waiting for me to sign on it.Marriage. I had never imagined signing something like this without love in the room. Without my mother standing nearby trying not to cry. Without music or family or any of t

NAYA'S POV I stood on the pavement outside the Grand Crest Hotel the next morning and looked up at the building. It was tall and made entirely of glass. Even from outside I could see the gleaming floors and the way everything inside seemed to glow. Men and women in expensive suits walked in and out like they had been born there. Not one of them looked like they had spent the night on a hospital chair. I looked down at my simple and clean clothes. It was nowhere close to what this place expected. I straightened my back and walked in. The first thing that hit me was the cold air. The kind of cold that only comes from very good air conditioning in a very expensive building. I rubbed my arms slowly and looked around. The floor shone like a mirror. Everything was warm-lit and quiet and perfect. The kind of place that made you feel like you needed permission just to stand in it. I walked to the front desk. The woman behind it looked up. "Yes?" "I have a meeting," I said. My voice ca

NAYA'S POV I read the email three times then pinched my arm hard, just to be sure I wasn't dreaming. Someone behind me coughed. A chair scraped the floor. The fan kept clicking overhead. That was all I needed to know this was real. The email was still there. "Scam," I said quietly, and I closed the tab. Then I opened it again. Two simple words sat at the bottom of the message. L. K. There was no photo, no full name. Nothing about who this person was or where they were from. It was just two letters and a short sentence that said they were interested. I pressed reply, then deleted it without typing anything. What was I supposed to say? What price do you put on a year of your life? Before I could decide, another email came in from the same address. Do not waste my time. If this is real, respond. I sat up straight. This was real. I typed: This is not a joke. I need money for my sister's surgery. I pressed send before I could change my mind. The reply came fast. Full name. No

NAYA'S POV I was sitting on a plastic chair beside Lily's bed when the doctor came to get me. I had been there since morning, watching her sleep. Her face was pale and her lips were dry and chapped. When I held her hand, her fingers felt cold against mine, so I kept rubbing them slowly, hoping the warmth from my hands would pass to hers. She opened her eyes a little and looked at me. "You're still here?" she said weakly. "Of course I'm here," I said, and I tried to smile so she would not worry. "Where else would I be?" She opened her mouth. I thought she was going to say something but instead she started coughing. I reached for the cup of water on the small table beside her and held it to her lips. Her hands shook as she took it. "Sorry," she said when she stopped. "For what?" "For making you stay here every day. You should be living your life, Naya." "Stop talking like that," I said. She looked at me for a long time, studying my face the way she always did when she thought