A/N:
This the second part. Hope you enjoy.
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Angel had graduated from the university. Not with honors, but with credentials solid enough to open doors anywhere if she wanted them to.
Yet, she hadn't applied for a single job.
Not because she didn't want to work-Angel was no stranger to effort-but because life had left her tired. The air around her still carried the lingering scent of mourning. The grief of losing Zhang hung like a shadow she couldn't outrun.
Besides, she was two weeks into a hair-braiding apprenticeship she had paid heavily for. It wasn't a glamorous dream, but it was hers. And she wasn't about to waste it just to chase job listings across Nigeria that might never call her back.
So she braided hair. She studied quietly. She mourned quietly. She lived quietly.
Until that Monday morning.
The day had started like any other. The air smelled faintly of fried onions and palm oil as Angel stood barefoot in the kitchen, stirring a pot of rice with slow, absentminded motions. Her thoughts wandered. To Zhang. To the grave. To the quiet that followed him.
"Angel," her mother's voice broke through from the sitting room.
It wasn't the usual tone she used when she wanted to remind Angel about house chores or warn her against some reckless man at the market. There was a strange weight to it. A softness edged with hesitation.
"Mommy?" Angel answered, wiping her hands on her apron as she stepped into the living room.
Her mother sat on the sofa, her expression unreadable-caught somewhere between pity and fear. Angel's stomach twisted.
"You're scaring me," Angel said cautiously, sitting beside her. "What is it you want to talk about?"
Her mother inhaled deeply. "Do you know that James is your cousin?"
Angel blinked. "No, Mom. I had no idea. Why? What about him? Though I was told but I didn't believe it."
Instead of answering, her mother sighed again, slower this time. "Who brought him to your doorstep?"
Angel frowned. "They were three people," she replied after a pause. "One looked like a grandmother, another like the father, and the last one-like a married older brother."
"Well," her mother said, folding her arms, "they're outside. Looking for you."
Angel's brows furrowed in confusion. "But why?"
"Go and answer them," her mother said, her voice sharpening slightly. "I'm sure you'll recognize one of them. And if they dare look down on you, I swear I'll pour sand into their mouths myself."
Angel blinked, half startled, half amused. "Mom, you're too much," she muttered with a nervous laugh. "I'm going out now."
Outside, the air was heavy and bright, the midday sun hanging over the courtyard like molten copper.
Three figures stood by the gate, their presence stiff and uncomfortable-an old woman draped in lace, a man in a starched native outfit, and a younger man who couldn't quite hide his irritation.
Angel paused. Her pulse quickened.
Mom didn't let them in... then I won't either, she thought. Anyone who disrespects my family doesn't deserve our roof.
"Good afternoon to you all," she said coolly, crossing her arms. "To what do I owe this visit?"
The old woman raised a brow. "Aren't you going to invite us in?"
Angel shook her head. "When I came out, my parents made it clear-'don't open the door for them.' That's what they said. And we were raised to respect our elders, right, Grand Lady?"
Her tone was polite-but sharp as glass.
The old woman's expression darkened. "Looks like your family trains ungrateful idiots."
Angel laughed softly. Not with joy-but disbelief. "Ungrateful? Who abandons their child because they were afraid to take responsibility, huh?"
"You-"
"Enough," Angel cut in, her patience thinning. "Why are you here?"
"Let us in first," the man beside the old woman said, his voice tight.
"Are you nuts?" Angel snapped. "You have my parents' number. Call them. And if you're not ready to talk, I'd be honored to slam this gate right in your faces."
"You wouldn't dare!" the youngest man barked.
Angel's gaze hardened. She stepped closer to the gate and met his eyes directly. "Try me."
The tension thickened, the air alive with hostility. Then a soft but venomous voice sliced through it-
Elena!
Angel froze.
The name hit her like a cold slap. Without another word, she slammed the gate shut so hard it rattled the hinges.
Her anger ignited instantly-boiling through her veins like wildfire.
She stormed into the living room where her mother still sat. "Mother, what's that bastard doing here?"
Her mother didn't flinch. "They're all bastards. Which one?"
"Elena!" Angel's voice trembled with rage. "What's Elena doing here?"
"She came with her family," her mother replied simply.
Angel's eyes widened. "Those people?"
Her mother nodded. "She's the eldest daughter. I knew you'd remember her if not the others."
From the kitchen, Peace poked her head out, wiping her hands. "What's going on? Angel, why do you look like that?"
"She's here," Angel said bitterly.
Peace blinked. "Who's here?"
Angel didn't answer-but the look in her eyes said everything.
Without another word, Peace marched toward the gate, her jaw set like stone.
The moment she saw the girl outside, all rational thought fled.
"Elena," she spat, her lips curling.
Elena turned, startled. "Peace-"
"I told you the next time I see you here, I'll kill you."
Before anyone could react, Peace grabbed Elena by the hair, yanking her forward with brutal force. The girl screamed, stumbling as Peace dragged her through the gate and slammed it behind them with a deafening clang.
"Let me go!" Elena shrieked, thrashing.
Peace only tightened her grip, pulling harder, her voice sharp with fury. "You think you can hurt my sister and walk into our house smiling?!"
The banging on the gate intensified as the others outside shouted in panic, but Peace didn't care.
The commotion drew the rest of the family. Sarah appeared first, then Emma, both startled and tense.
"Peace! What's happening?" Emma demanded.
Peace jerked Elena's head up by her hair. "You don't recognize her? It's her-the one who nearly froze Angel to death!"
Recognition flashed across Sarah's face. Her nostrils flared. "That witch is here?"
Before anyone could stop her, Sarah reached for something-none of them knew from where-and produced a leather whip. The sound of it slicing through the air was followed by a crack that echoed through the compound.
Thwack!
Elena screamed.
Thwack!
"Trash!" Sarah shouted, each strike landing with blistering fury.
"Sarah, stop!" Emma called, but Sarah glared at her, wild-eyed.
"You know what she did! Don't tell me to stop!"
Emma exhaled, stepping closer, her voice calm but dangerous. "Who said I'm letting her breathe? Killing her now won't satisfy anything. She came to us on her own-let her regret that first."
Peace and Sarah exchanged glances, breathing hard.
"What do you suggest?" Peace asked.
Emma crouched, grabbing Elena by the chin and forcing her to look up. She tsked mockingly. "What a waste. You used to look better when you lied."
Elena sobbed, clutching Emma's wrist. "Please... I was wrong. It's been years! You can't just-vent all that anger now. Please, let me go. I swear I'll never come back."
"Years?" Sarah hissed. "That was our sister, you snake!"
"It's been years!" Elena cried louder, desperation leaking through. "You're really that unforgiving?"
The next thing she felt was cold steel pressing against her arm.
Emma's knife glinted in the dim afternoon light.
Elena froze, trembling.
Emma leaned close, her voice barely above a whisper. "You think I won't mutilate you here? Don't test me. Angel is our sister. And no one who hurt her walks away smiling."
Meanwhile, Angel stood in the doorway, trembling. She wanted to stop them, to calm the fire before it burned too far-but her mother's hand on her shoulder held her still.
"I'm not supporting evil," her mother said quietly, eyes fixed on the chaos. "But I'll like to watch this. No one messes with my family and goes scot-free."
Angel swallowed hard, her heart thundering as screams and shouts filled the air. The world she had fought so hard to keep peaceful was shattering again-piece by piece, right in front of her.