Chapter 47 – Hidden Deals

Third-Person POV

The sun dipped lower as evening shadows stretched across the quiet street.

A soft wind danced along the gutters, rustling wrappers and leaves, carrying with it the scent of pepper stew and kerosene smoke.

Across from Mannie’s small house, Zarah stepped out of the neighbor’s compound wearing a silk cream dress that shimmered under the amber light. Her gold heels clicked softly against the pavement as she adjusted the strap of her designer handbag.

She didn't belong here, and she knew it.

Her makeup was flawless, her perfume expensive.

The women from the community group who had always looked down on her, now grovel at her feet for her scraps.

Standing in front of the gate, she turned back to speak with the woman she had just met inside—Auntie Remi, the neighborhood's overly friendly neighbor.

Remi leaned against her doorway, arms crossed over her generous chest, eyes shining with curiosity and greed.

“I’ve told you already,” Zarah whispered sharply, her eyes flicking around. “You just have to guide her mother. Gently, slowly, make her think it’s her idea.”

Remi nodded with a small, eager smile. “I remember. You want me to push the marriage idea.”

“Yes. That man is ready. And I want Mannie tied down before she starts attracting more attention.”

There was a pause. Remi was busy thinking of how to execute the plan. If executed very well, not only would the $100,000 be hers but she might even gain more.

That was the biggest or highest amount she has ever gotten.

Zarah turned slightly, her gaze landing on Mannie’s closed door across the road.

Her lips curled into a cold smile.

“I’ll make sure it works,” Remi promised.

Zarah didn’t answer. She simply gave a slow nod, then turned and walked away without a backward glance. Her car was waiting around the corner, its polished surface gleaming like obsidian under the fading light.

As she disappeared from sight, Remi turned her eyes toward Mannie’s house and smiled with a sinister glint in her eyes.

---

Clara held Zoey’s hand as she walked the children back home.

The evening sun had softened into a golden orange that painted their little bodies in warm light.

The kids moved around her like scattered chicks, giggling, dragging their backpacks, talking about a classroom quiz and someone named ‘Miss Cynthia’ who had tripped while chasing after a frog Nate let loose.

Her mouth tugged up in a tired smile. Even after a long day, the children still had energy.

Their voices filled the street with life. They were loud, messy, and sometimes too clever for their own good—but they were hers. Or rather, they were Mannie’s.

Still, Clara couldn’t help but feel like they were a part of her too.

----------

Inside the little home, Clara was wiping Zoey’s face with a damp napkin.

The children had just finished eating, and now they were scattered across the room like colorful beads from a broken necklace.

Jay was helping Zane fix a broken toy. Tera and Lily were trying to braid each other’s hair while arguing about whose braid looked better. Sophie had climbed onto the couch with a book she couldn’t read but stared at anyway, pretending.

The house smelled of leftover food, baby powder, and plastic.

Clara sighed.

She sat down on the edge of the faded sofa and rubbed her forehead. Her back ached from standing too long.

The crayon drawings on the wall stared back at her—messy, loud, joyful chaos drawn by small hands. She should be used to it by now, but there were days when it pressed too hard on her chest.

Today was one of those days.

Just as she leaned back to rest her tired spine, a knock sounded on the door.

Knock! Knock!!!

Clara rose slowly.

"Who is there?" Her voice rose slightly as she approached the door.

"Your neighbor."

It was only after she recognized the voice that she decided to open the door.

She opened the door to see Remi standing there, her face stretched into a friendly smile, but her eyes moved too quickly—taking in Clara’s tired face, the scattered shoes on the floor, the rumpled children behind her.

“Ah, Clara, good evening.”

Clara gave a small nod. “Evening.”

“I was hoping you’d come by later. Just for a little chat. I’ve got some tea prepared and a few things to share. Girl talk,” she added with a wink.

Clara’s face didn’t change. “I’m with the kids now. Maybe when I’m done.”

“Oh, of course, of course,” Remi replied quickly, but her smile tightened ever so slightly. “Take your time. But I think you’ll want to hear this one.”

She peeked past Clara’s shoulder.

“Is Mannie home?”

Clara shook her head. “She’s still at work.”

Remi’s eyes sparkled with interest. “Are you sure she’s not... seeing someone?”

Clara gave a tired chuckle. “I wish she was.”

Remi laughed too, but her laugh was hollow.

“I’ll be waiting,” she said, stepping back. “And please, take your time, but don’t forget.”

Back inside, Clara picked up scattered plates and began rinsing them one by one in the small sink.

Her thoughts were heavy. She didn’t know what Remi wanted to share, but since she said it was something that would help Mannie out, she decided to try.

When the children were settled—blankets spread, water bottles filled, bedtime cartoons playing softly on the screen.

Clara stepped out once again and made her way to the neighbor’s house.

---

Remi’s sitting room was clean and smelled like air freshener and ginger tea. She had arranged chin-chin on a plate and set two cups of tea on the table.

Clara sat at the edge of the armchair, her hands folded neatly in her lap.

Remi smiled and leaned forward, pouring the tea slowly.

“You look tired, Clara.”

Clara gave a small nod. “It’s been a long day.”

“Eight kids... It must be exhausting.”

Clara said nothing.

Remi continued. “I remember when I had just two—thought I would run mad. But Mannie... she’s strong.”

“She didn’t plan it,” Clara said softly, her voice dry. “But yes. She is.”

There was a long pause.

Remi folded her hands and sighed dramatically. “I’ve been thinking about her and you as well. I know you carry so much.”

Clara’s eyes narrowed. “Why are you saying this?”

Remi smiled gently. “Because there might be help.”

Clara leaned back slightly.

“What kind of help?”

Remi stood and walked to a drawer. She pulled out a small envelope and placed it gently on the table between them.

Clara stared at it.

“I was approached by someone,” Remi said slowly. “A man. He’s looking for a wife. He’s not young, but not old either. Has a stable job. Doesn’t drink. Doesn’t smoke.”

“And?” Clara asked cautiously.

“He knows about Mannie’s situation.”

“About the kids?”

Remi nodded.

“And he’s still interested?”

“He said...” Remi smiled strangely, “he said he finds it... attractive.”

Clara blinked. “What?”

“Some men are like that. He said a woman who could give birth to eight children must be... blessed. Fruitful. He respects that.”

Clara sat frozen, her fingers clenching the fabric of her wrapper. “That’s not normal.”

“Maybe not. But it’s not bad either. He wants to take care of her. And you. He’s offering something real.”

Clara looked down at the envelope.

Remi pushed it slightly forward. “A small token. To show he’s serious.”

Clara didn’t touch it.

Her mind was a storm of questions.

Why now? Why Mannie? Why through Remi?

It didn’t feel right.

But what if it was real?

What if Mannie could have someone—someone to stand beside her? What if there was a chance, even a small one?

Clara’s chest tightened.

She stood slowly.

“I’ll discuss it with my daughter,” she said quietly.

Remi nodded, standing too.

But just as Clara turned to leave, Remi spoke, "Won't you want to take his honest gesture with you?"

"No thank you." Clara waved her hand not turning back and she left.