ENTRY 19
ABBY:
Madam J. I had no idea what I had just stepped into.
That day, she drove me straight to her house. She called for her maid to serve me food and show me to a bedroom at the back of the building.
The next morning, I was invited to eat breakfast with her. She asked if I’d slept well, then said she had a proposition for me.
I was excited. I told her yes, I’d slept well and asked her to please go on.
She leaned in, her voice calm but deliberate.
“Abby, I’ve been where you are. My stepmother kicked me out of the house when I turned sixteen. My father just folded his arms and said nothing. He stayed there with the three children she brought in from her previous marriage.
I was the black sheep. My father had told her I was his niece, so she treated me like a slave.
When she eventually found out I was his daughter, the treatment only got worse. She framed me for theft, constantly started fights between me and her daughters—two of whom were older than me.
Every day my father returned from work, it was one issue or another she had cooked up about me. He never wanted to hear my side of the story.
The final straw was when she lied that her gold chain had gone missing. A ‘search’ was done and, surprise surprise, it was mysteriously found in my luggage.
That day, she insisted my father kick me out. He said no, because I was underage—not even sixteen.
A year and two months later, the day after my sixteenth birthday, I got home and found my clothes already packed.
She said, ‘We can’t harbour a thief in this house. You lie, steal, fight… we don’t want you influencing the other children. You’ve got to go.’
And my father just sat there, nodding in agreement.”
She paused for a moment, then said, “So you see, Abby, I’ve been where you are. And I want to help you—because someone helped me too.”
“So, what do you say?”
I was elated. From hopeless and homeless to hopeful and sheltered.
Then she smiled and asked, “You do know how to show appreciation, right?”
I replied, “Of course, Aunty. Name it, I’ll do anything.”
“Anything?” she asked again, curiously.
“Yes,” I replied.
Then she gave me a long, knowing look with a sly smile and said, “My darling girl… remember this day—when you promised me anything I ask.”
“Go and have some rest. I’m travelling for a few days. When I return, I’ll tell you what that ‘anything’ is.”
Hmmm…
CHRIS:
My destiny. That’s all I could think about.
I had just turned down a fully-funded Master’s scholarship—with a guaranteed job at the end. It sounded perfect. But it wasn’t my path. My destiny, according to the prophet, was across water.
Meanwhile, Edward was already building his destiny. And that made me anxious. He had an eight-month head start.
So I intensified my search. That’s when I stumbled upon a website: Fulfilled Dreams – Travel Abroad Alternatives.
Excited, I called the number immediately.
I was put through to someone called “The Coordinator.” She asked how she could help.
I said, “I want to go overseas.”
She asked why. I replied, “To fulfil my destiny.”
Then she asked, “Where?”
I hesitated. “What do you mean?”
She said, “UK or Europe?”
I asked which was better.
She replied, “Europe.”
So I said, “Europe.”
She then asked if I was on any regular medication. I said no.
And finally, she asked, “Are you sentimental?”
I didn’t understand that question—but I was about to.
After answering all her questions, she gave me an appointment to come to their office—six weeks from that day.
The only issue? I had told her I had more money than I actually did.
So now, I had six weeks to find a way to raise the extra cash…
Hmmm…
