Zoya hears her mother call her name from downstairs, so she gets up and heads down.
As she gets to the top of the stairs, her mother pulls her back and whispers, "Don't go there, I heard it too."
Zoya Zinadine, an executive interior designer of Gate...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
*Hea's POV*:
I was an illiterate and a poor girl, living in Korea, working as a maid for my aunt's children of my age. I do not know who my parents were. When I was fourteen, my uncle gave me a ten won note and dropped me off at a lake in the middle of the night.
"Why?" I questioned, scratching the back of my head.
"It's all for your wellbeing," he said, patting my back.
I was confused and helpless. I was only fourteen, and I did not know what was actually happening around me. There was no one to talk to, no one to play with, and not a single soul to love me. I've always imagined that if my parents were alive today, I'd also live a life like my cousins do. A single day hasn't passed without me missing them.
"Get into the boat," my uncle said with a predatory grin.
If I had refused, he'd have killed me, so with a bleeding heart I got into the boat and reached this country after two weeks of traveling.
I cannot describe my pain in words. I consumed stale food to survive. There were weird people watching me like hawks. I couldn't use a washroom. I was living in hell. How heartless could my uncle and his family be?
"Get down!" The ferryman commanded.
I was clueless about what to do for a living in a completely strange country. I walked down the forest and crossed the stream that fell over the rocks.
"Girl, are you new here?" A wise old man asked, walking towards me.
"Y-yes," I stammered, clasping my bag in my hands.
"Are you looking for anyone?" He asked, collecting woods.
The hunger of children is a cruelty and a gross. My stomach was growling in hunger. There was something in hunger that robbed the spirit and the body.
"I need some food—"
I couldn't complete my sentence as everything around me turned black and my back hit the ground.
"Girl! Hey girl!!" the old man screamed, splashing water on my face. I opened my eyes slowly, but my vision was unclear.
"You reminded me of my daughter. Come with me. I will feed you," he said, walking towards his jeep.
He drove me to a huge factory. It smelled so good and it looked clean.
"A chocolate factory?" I asked, fascinated by the vast machines moulding pretty chocolates.
"This is my factory," he said, handing over a snack box to me.
I saw my father in him. He's a pure gem. Fathers like mine will never die. He's such a gentleman. God did not let me down.
"Thank you very much. This is so kind of you," I said, gobbling the delicious food like as if there's no tomorrow.
"Can I work here, please? I've no money and I know no one here," I begged, sipping the chilled water.
"Sure," he said, smiling.
I worked for ten years in uncle Stephen's chocolate factory. It was a fresh experience for me and I loved every bit.
"Hea?" Uncle Stephen screamed from his office room. I ran immediately and tapped on the wooden door.
"Come in," he said, and I walked towards his chair.
"This is for you," he said, handing over a key to me.
"A key?" I asked, totally confused.
"A brand new house for you. You can start your own business now. I just deposited a ten thousand dollars for you," he said, smiling.
"Oh, my! Uncle Stephen! I will forever be grateful to you!" I said, embracing him into a hug.
"No problem, my girl. And oh, stop crying. Go, enjoy!" He said, smiling.
I was grateful to have met a gem of a human. Uncle Stephen died when I was twenty-one and that brought so much pain to me. It was like as if I lost my parent. I visited his tombstone and prayed for him every day. It's only because of him I lived a peaceful life.
My life was perfect. I owned a yellow Dixi car. I opened my chocolate factory with uncle Stephen's help, but there was one thing missing in my life. No one was with me. There was no one with me. I wanted someone to be a part of my pain and my happiness.
On the 2nd of February 1910, a shabby man made his way to my lawn while I sat in my deck chair sipping my cup of hot coffee.
"Ma'am!" He whispered, and I jerked up.
"Who are you?" I screamed, dropping the cup on the ground.
"Can I get some food, please? I'm hungry." He said, sounding weak.
"This is my wife," he said, pointing at a hunched woman who seemed to have eaten nothing for the past few days.
I saw myself in them. No human on earth must be in an empty stomach. I repeat, no one. I handed over two glasses of coffee and two plates of boiled potatoes, fresh bread, and roasted beef.
"Thank you very much for being kind. Could you please appoint us any sort of work? I'm can take care of your enormous garden and my wife is a pro at household work," he said, munching the fresh bread.
"Sure," I said, smiling.
That was the biggest mistake I made. My entire life collapsed after making that decision.
Your votes matter! Please tap the star button below to vote ❤️🧚🏻♀️ See you in the next chapter ☘️ Thank you xx
