“It’s just breakfast,” he replied.
For a while they ate in silence.
Then she said, “I don’t know who I am in this house.”
He looked at her calmly.
“You are free to decide that yourself.”
It sounded simple when he said it. Almost impossible.
Before she could respond, the sound of voices came from the entrance.
A familiar voice.
“Where is my niece Catherine?”
Catherine froze.
Aunt Beatice.
She and Joseph entered the dining room looking around with wide eyes. Beatice tried to hide her amazement, but failed.
“So this is where you live,” she said approvingly.
Then, without shame, she began her real purpose. School fees for her children. Repairs for the farm. The roof of her house.
“You already received bride price,” Catherine said quietly.
“That was tradition,” Beatice answered. “This is family support.”
Moses had been silent until then. But when Beatice suggested that a husband must care for his wife’s family, he asked one question:
“That depends. Did the family care for the wife?”
The room went still.
Beatice stiffened. “We raised her.”
“You used her,” Moses replied calmly.
No one had ever spoken to her that way.
A few minutes later, he asked Grace, the house attendant, to show them out.
When the front door finally closed behind them, Catherine sat in stunned silence.
For the first time in her life, someone had stood between her and the people who had controlled her for years.
And for the first time, she felt something fragile inside her chest.
Protection.
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