Chapter Fourteen

When Dera woke up the next morning, she glanced at the gentle sunlight streaming into her room through the window. A soft smile graced her lips, and just as she was about to throw off the covers and get out of bed, Beatrice, dressed and ready to go to the shop, entered with a tray of piping hot breakfast.

Beatrice placed the plate of spaghetti and the glass of milk on the table in the room. She looked at Dera and said, 'Hey, you have school today. Are you planning to sleep all day?'

'Mum, I was about to get up before you walked in,' Dera rubbed her eyes and replied as she sat up on the bed.

'I'm... I'm sorry. I shouldn't have doubted you yesterday. I trusted what you said, but I didn't want the topic to continue, so I gave Sharon another hundred naira note,' Beatrice lowered her eyes, not knowing what else to say.

Dera smiled. 'Mum, don't blame yourself. I know you were trying to protect me. Yes, I felt hurt, but after thinking about it, I realised that if you were in my shoes, I would have done the same for you. I'm sorry too.'

'Yesterday... did your principal say anything after you asked for some time?' Beatrice asked softly.

'He gave us two weeks,' Dera paused. 'Did dad manage to get the money?'

Beatrice shook her head. 'They all had reasons why they couldn't help,' she sighed. 'If your father hadn't lost his job three years ago, we wouldn't be in this mess. Now we run a small shop that barely makes a profit... I just hope everything will turn out right.'

Dera looked at her mother. 'Mum, please find a buyer for my bicycle. I need to sell it.'

Beatrice gazed into Dera's calm eyes. She felt that her daughter didn't deserve to suffer like this. That bicycle was a gift from her elder brother two years ago, and Dera had cherished it so much. Now she was willing to let it go? Beatrice felt a wave of sadness wash over her. Her daughter was only sixteen years old, yet she seemed so mature, so strong, and smiled so sweetly, as if everything was okay. But Beatrice knew there was pain deep within her, waiting to be released like a torrent of tears.

'Dera... can you stretch out your right hand, please?' Beatrice said softly.

Dera was puzzled but didn't hesitate. She stretched out her right hand, and Beatrice gently held it in her own, her calloused fingers massaging Dera's hand tenderly.

'By May/June, you'll use this hand to write your WASSCE,' Beatrice said, looking at her daughter.

Dera looked back at her mother. 'I hope so,' she said softly.

'Definitely,' Beatrice assured her.

Dera felt her mother's hand on her shoulder and leaned into it. She wrapped her arms around her mother's hand, and they sat there silently, finding solace in each other's presence. Then, Dera let out a sigh.

'Mum... I was thinking about what Jennifer's mother said, and I thought maybe I should get a job and help...'

'You need to ignore her words and focus on your studies. You can get a job after you graduate from university, or you can even become your own boss.' Beatrice stroked Dera's hair gently. 'Dera, you're my only daughter, and I'll treat you like a princess, even if it's in small ways.' She kissed the centre of Dera's palm, giving her a reassuring smile. 'Never stop hoping. Your father and I will do everything possible to register you and also clear your debts.'

Dera felt her mother's tears, and immediately tears welled up in her own eyes. She reached out and affectionately hugged her mother, finding comfort in their embrace.