Chapter Twenty-Six

Meanwhile, inside the living room, Emeka sat on the sofa watching the nine o'clock national news from the hunchback television. The furniture in the house was decades old, with peeling white-painted walls, yet everything looked neat. Fireflies flew outside, and the windows let in a gentle breeze, creating a peaceful atmosphere.

While drinking the tea Beatrice brought for him, Emeka suddenly remembered what Andrew had talked about during dinner. He felt that Andrew might be right about Goodwall. He hadn't heard about Goodwall before, but he had a sense that something good might come out of it. He looked out into the night sky, feeling a bit satisfied.

'Honey, I think our daughter should listen to her brother and participate,' Beatrice gently said, sipping her achara tea.

Emeka glanced at his wife, smiled, and said, 'These days, people are afraid of scams, but somehow, I feel that maybe... Goodwall is real.'

Beatrice laughed. 'There is still a trace of doubt in your voice.' Beatrice was too smart to point it out.

'Don't mind the doubt; instead, listen to the hope,' Emeka waved his hand, laughing.