Perspectives in silence

Chapter 3

Ameera's Pov

I woke up to the sound of my landlord’s annoying dog and a splitting migraine.

The constant barking drilled into my skull, making the pounding in my head even worse.

Dragging myself up from bed, I realized it was already 8:50 a.m. My shift started at nine. Great. Maybe last night wasn’t such a good idea after all. The club, the drinks, the running for my life—it all hit me like a wrecking ball.

I reached for my phone and saw five missed calls from Cassie. Damn. I’d forgotten to text her that I got home safely. Memories of last night came flooding back—the fight, the guy, the gunshot. My stomach knotted. I quickly sent her a text, apologizing for scaring her. Whatever she was dealing with, I doubted her night ended as badly as mine.

At least there was water this morning. Thank God for small mercies.

I walked to the supermarket where I worked. It wasn’t really far, which was the only good thing about that job. I was thirty minutes late. I just prayed he wouldn’t notice.

I slipped into my seat just as Mr. Samuel, my boss, spotted me.

“Ameera!” His voice carried across the room. He was in his late forties but carried himself as if he were in his sixties—lazy and moody, always with that clipboard glued to his hand.

“Good morning, sir,” I said, pasting on my best customer-service smile.

He narrowed his eyes. “Drop the fake smile.”

The smile dropped instantly.

“You’re late,” he said flatly.

“I’m sorry, sir. I closed really late at last night’s shift,” I explained, hoping he’d show a shred of sympathy.

“Excuses. And you know how much I hate excuses,” he muttered, checking something off his clipboard. Then he looked at me, his face hard. “You’ll work two extra hours today.”

“What?!” I screamed in my head. “But I’ll be late for my night shift!”

“Now get to work,” he said back without a flicker of emotion.

I swallowed my frustration and nodded, though inside I wanted to scream.

By mid-afternoon, I was dragging myself across the floor, every step threatening to buckle my legs. My phone buzzed. Another text from the hospital—another bill. My chest tightened. At this rate, I was drowning. Saving my mum felt impossible.

“Excuse me, ma’am, we don’t have what you’re looking for,” Tayo, my co-worker, called out. Her tone was sharp.

An elderly woman stood in front of her, confusion clouding her face. “But I was told I’d find what I’m looking for here,” she said softly.

“Well, you’re too old to hear things properly. Maybe you misheard,” Tayo snapped.

“Watch your tongue, little girl,” she said.

“Tayo!” I rushed over. “We’re all tired, but that doesn’t mean we take it out on customers.”

“Oh, spare me, Ameera,” Tayo muttered, storming off.

“Looks like your friend has a temper. Why is she so angry, dear?”

“She didn’t mean it,” I said gently. “We’re just… worn out. Tell me what you need. I’ll help you.”

It took me twenty minutes to help her adjust her shopping list. She wanted to cook a traditional meal for her husband but couldn’t find the exact ingredients. I found modern substitutes that would work just as well. When she left the counter, she was smiling again.

“You’re a good person,” she told me as I helped her close the trunk of her car.

“It’s nothing,” I said, managing a tired smile.

“What’s your name?” she asked me.

“Ameera… Ameera Parker,” I finished.

“I guess this job is more stressful than it looks?” she asked, studying me.

Making me immediately conscious of the dark circles beneath my eyes and my pale skin.

I was already tired of the conversation; I just wanted to go inside before Samuel noticed I was gone.

“Well… have a nice day,” I said, giving her my best attempt at a smile.

She hummed thoughtfully, then reached into her elegant purse. “Here. My grandson might have a job for you.” She pressed a business card into my hand. “Call the number, tell them Mrs. Loretta asked you to call. I’ll speak to the necessary people.”

I blinked at her. “Oh… thank you.”

“You’re welcome, dear.” She smiled warmly.

Just then, a tall man jogged toward us. His tailored suit clung perfectly to his frame, and his black shades gave him bodyguard energy.

“Sorry for the delay, ma’am,” he said. “The bank was unexpectedly crowded. You should have waited for me.”

“It’s fine, Richard. I might be old but I’m not dying. I got in myself and did what I had to do,” she replied, laughing a little bit. “This young lady helped me with the load anyway.”

His gaze flicked over me for no more than a second. “Thank you,” he said simply, opening the car door for her.

She waved goodbye before sliding inside. He got behind the wheel, and in seconds, the sleek car vanished down the street.

I glanced down at the business card in my hand, my heart racing with something I couldn’t name.

“Ameera!” Mr. Samuel’s voice thundered from inside.

“Damn it,” I muttered under my breath, shoving the card into my pocket and hurrying back inside.