The dining table was left behind in a slow shuffle of movement, chairs scraping softly against the tiled floor as one by one, the family members slipped away into their various post-dinner routines.
Laughter from Joshua and Miracle echoed faintly down the hallway.
Jordan had retreated with Stephanie's card in hand.
Miriam had immediately retreated as well
Only Mr. Udeh remained seated at the head of the table, arms crossed, gaze far away, yet tethered to something unresolved as he watched the last of the plates being cleared.
Timothy followed behind the others, plates in hand, and walked beside Stephanie.
They made their way toward the kitchen in silence, the tension from earlier still lingering, but softened now diluted by warm food and shared effort.
The kitchen, once within view, reminded Timothy exactly where he stood.
It was unlike anything he had seen outside television screens or high-budget apartment listings online.
Spacious, with a U-shaped marble countertop that glowed beneath gold-toned pendant lights, the kitchen gleamed in tasteful opulence.
The cabinetry was matte grey, cool to the eyes, and lined with black handles that blended sleekly into the design.
Twin ovens were mounted into the far wall, and a four-door smart fridge stood humming quietly beside them.
To the side, an extended island sat beneath a smaller chandelier, more decorative than functional.
There was a small indoor herb garden near the window, and even the dish rack looked custom-designed.
It was a place where function and beauty danced hand in hand.
Timothy was still trying to determine where to place the stack of plates in his hand when Miriam's mother entered, trailed by the maid who had earlier helped set the table.
"You can leave us now, Ifeoma," she said gently to the maid, who gave a short bow and exited without a word.
Timothy blinked.
'Wait, we're doing the dishes?' he thought
Mrs. Udeh had already begun assigning roles before he could think of protesting.
Stephanie would rinse.
Timothy would wash.
The counter space by the sink was cleared, and the first few soapy dishes were already making their way into the rinse station.
It was surreal.
Here he was, a guest, elbow-deep in another family's sink, sleeves rolled up, scrubbing stew-stained china like it was his lifelong responsibility.
He couldn't quite figure out how he got here.
Maybe it was the tone of the household.
Maybe it was Mrs. Udeh's calm authority.
Or maybe it was just how life decided to humble him again.
Behind him, she watched, not oppressively, but with the mild amusement of someone who had expected as much.
"Is my food really that good?" she asked suddenly.
Timothy paused mid-scrub.
His head tilted slightly like he'd misheard.
"Huh?"
She didn't repeat herself.
She simply raised an eyebrow, arms folded.
She knew exactly what she'd said, and that he'd heard it.
Timothy cleared his throat.
"Yes. The cooking was really good."
A smile crept into her features.
"Miriam also knows how to cook. I taught her that personally."
"That explains a lot," Timothy said reflexively, before the weight of what he'd just admitted hit him.
He froze, fingers stiff around the slippery ceramic plate in his hands.
Stephanie, beside him, looked up for a second but said nothing.
Mrs. Udeh didn't miss a beat.
Her voice lifted in mock surprise, but her words carried that distinct motherly precision.
"Oh? You've tasted her cooking? Meanwhile, she never steps into the kitchen at home."
Timothy tried not to look like a deer in headlights.
He smiled awkwardly, focusing on a stubborn bit of stew at the corner of a plate.
"Yes. She is quite the good cook," he said, more carefully now.
"Although I've only tasted it a few times." he continued trying to downplay her significance
"Mmm," the woman hummed, clearly entertained now. "Interesting," she said making Timothy feel like he didn't succeed in downplaying it at all
Still, he focused on scrubbing.
The kitchen, the food, the house, the family, it was all slowly assembling into a clearer picture in his mind.
'Prestige without arrogance? Discipline with a hint of control? No, not true, Everyone has their bad sides and their flaws, some are just good at hiding it, while others learn to live with it as it blends into their normal life' Timothy thought
The room fell into a beat of silence, the sound of water and plates filling the void, until Mrs. Udeh spoke again, voice lighter now, but no less direct.
"Does she come to your house often?"
Timothy blinked.
"Uh... not often. Just a few times when we were planning things... work-related."
"So how frequent would you say that is? Weekly? Monthly?" she asked
Timothy paused, the question clearer now.
The pattern, the tone, it wasn't just curiosity anymore.
She was drawing lines.
Testing boundaries.
He finally sighed.
"We're not in that kind of relationship, ma'am," he said gently.
"Miriam's a friend. Nothing more. We're... working together. That's all. We have a common enemy, and for now, our goals align."
Stephanie, to his surprise, gave a soft, amused exhale, as though none of this surprised her.
Mrs. Udeh, however, went still.
The weight of her silence filled the room again, her gaze drifting toward the granite counter like she was reevaluating a long-held belief.
Timothy's thoughts twisted uncomfortably Was that really such an unreasonable assumption? From what he'd seen, everything Miriam had done was something any close friend might do.
She hadn't once made a move, not verbally, not physically. Still...
"Stephanie," the older woman suddenly said, startling both of them.
Timothy furrowed his brows.
What did she have to do with this?
"Yes, ma'am?" Stephanie replied, a little too naturally.
"How exactly are they... connected?"
Timothy looked between them, now completely hurt by the show of disbelief.
Stephanie shrugged, eyes dry and voice blunt.
"They're friends."
"That much is clear. But how?"
"he is a friend," Stephanie repeated.
"And her boyfriend is Noah. They've been together since before she became a hunter."
The plate slipped slightly from Timothy's hand before he caught it, not enough to cause a scene, but just enough to betray something.
He placed it gently into the drying rack, shoulders squared, jaw firm.
Nothing in his face gave him away.
No flinch.
No raised brow.
Not even a breath out of place.
But inside, something stilled.
So that was it.
It explained a lot.
Basically, she did say she wanted to go rescue them, she just didn't say all her reasons
She'd always spoken the truth, just not all of it.
He swallowed the lump forming in his throat.
It wasn't jealousy.
Not exactly.
But the fact that her closeness had a motive, one as simple and human as love stung more than he expected.
She was mobilizing help... not just him.... Which was good in a way.
'Mobilizing? I wasn't even chosen, just convenience' Timothy thought raging on
The silence in the kitchen stretched again.
Stephanie looked at him from the corner of her eye, probably noting his lack of reaction and filing it somewhere in that sharp mind of hers.
Mrs. Udeh, on the other hand, relaxed slightly, assuming from his calm that this was old news to him.
That he'd always known.
But deep inside, Timothy felt a small shift, like a lock clicking shut.
He didn't distrust Miriam.
Not fully yet.
But a seed of wariness had been planted.
One he didn't know how to uproot.
Still, he chose not to confront it.
Not now.
Not ever, maybe.
Acting dumb suddenly felt like the safer option.
'How far would she go?' he thought as he wanted to know.
The dishes were done, dried, and stacked in their rightful places.
Mrs. Udeh, perhaps sensing the shift in the air, shifted gears.
"So," she said, wiping her hands.
"Tell me about life outside the home. The real world. How is it treating you both?"
The question was harmless, and Timothy followed the new thread, grateful for the distraction.
It made him realize just how much of her he hadn't known.
After a few moments of discussion, it was time he left.
"Thank you again for the meal," he added quickly, hoping to shift the conversation back into neutral territory.
"You're welcome," she said,
"And thank you both for helping."
Stephanie gave a small laugh.
"Honestly, I'm still trying to figure out how we ended up on kitchen duty."
"That's how I know who has sense," the woman replied with a sly grin.
Timothy chuckled softly.
If there was a test happening, he'd apparently passed it.
Even if it meant scrubbing ten more plates.
Meanwhile leaving without offering a goodbye did not exactly sit well with himself, but ...
'Walkaway,' he thought to himself and proceeded to use the door while Stephanie remained, for he didn't know how much longer as he already knew the exit.
Despite the distance from the door to the gate being quite short, Timothy had concluded quite a lot of things by changing one thing in himself.
"Perspective, huh," He said.
"It's all about perspective, Take everything with a pinch of salt and look from their perspective," Timothy said and chuckled
'I suddenly feel a bad premonition about this family' Timothy thought
It wasn't his instinct, it was just if this was a battle, he had lost the first round.
However, in his field of view, by the gate was Miriam standing and waiting for him; Timothy calmly looked at her as usual and tried to anticipate what she'd say now.
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