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“Amara!”

The sound of her name came from the kitchen.

Amara looked up immediately.

“Yes, ma’am!”

“Table four needs their order.”

“I’m coming.”

She picked up the tray and hurried across the restaurant.

The lunch crowd had arrived earlier than usual, leaving almost every table occupied. Plates moved constantly from the kitchen to the dining area, glasses needed refilling, customers called for waiters, and the manager had already complained twice about how slowly some of the orders were being served.

Amara kept moving.

She placed the meals on table four.

“Here you go. Please be careful, the plate is hot.”

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

She smiled briefly before turning around.

“Amara!”

Another customer.

She sighed quietly.

“Coming.”

She had been on her feet since six in the morning.

Her first task had been cleaning the restaurant before the other workers arrived. After that, she helped prepare the dining area, arranged the chairs, wiped the tables, and started taking orders.

She had barely sat down.

But sitting down was a luxury she couldn’t afford.

She glanced at the small clock behind the counter.

12:37 p.m.

Her stomach growled.

She ignored it.

There would be time to eat later.

Hopefully.

“Amara, take this to table nine.”

She collected the plates.

As she walked toward the table, her phone vibrated inside the pocket of her skirt.

She knew exactly who it was.

Her mother.

She couldn’t check it immediately. She had learned not to use her phone while working because the manager disliked it.

She placed the food down and returned to the counter.

The phone vibrated again.

This time, she checked.

Mum: Amara, please don’t forget about your brother’s school payment.

Amara stared at the message.

Her fingers moved across the screen.

Amara: I won’t forget, Mum.

She locked the phone.

Then she opened her banking app.

Her eyes remained on the balance for several seconds.

Not enough.

She closed the application.

“Everything okay?”

Amara looked up.

One of the other waitresses was watching her.

“I’m fine.”

“You don’t look fine.”

Amara smiled.

“I’m just tired.”

“You’ve been saying that for weeks.”

“And I’m still tired.”

They both laughed softly.

Then another customer called for them.

Work continued.

By three o’clock, Amara finally got a ten-minute break.

She sat in the small staff room with a plate of rice in front of her.

She ate quickly.

Halfway through the meal, her phone rang.

“Mum?”

“Amara.”

Her mother’s voice sounded tired.

“Yes?”

“Have you eaten?”

Amara looked at the almost-empty plate.

“Yes.”

“Good.”

There was a short silence.

Then her mother spoke again.

“Your brother’s school called this morning.”

Amara stopped eating.

“What happened?”

“They said the payment must be made before Friday.”

Amara closed her eyes.

“Friday?”

“Yes.”

“How much?”

Her mother told her.

Amara slowly put down her spoon.

She knew that amount.

It was almost everything she had saved.

“I’ll handle it.”

“Amara, you don’t have to do everything yourself.”

“I know, Mum.”

“You’ve been working too much.”

“I’m okay.”

“You’re my daughter. I know when you’re not okay.”

Amara smiled despite herself.

“I’ll be home tonight.”

“You have another job.”

“I’ll still come home.”

Her mother sighed.

“Don’t push yourself too hard.”

“I won’t.”

She ended the call.

For a moment, she simply sat there.

Her second job started at seven.

She still had to pay transportation.

She needed to buy groceries.

There was also the electricity bill.

And now her brother’s school payment.

Amara rubbed her forehead.

Then she stood up.

There was no point worrying about money while sitting in a staff room.

Worry wouldn’t pay the bills.

Work would.

At 3:18 p.m., she returned to the restaurant.

By five-thirty, her shift ended.

She changed out of her uniform, tied her hair back, and grabbed her bag.

“See you tomorrow,” her colleague called.

“See you.”

Amara stepped outside.

The evening air hit her face.

She checked the time.

5:47 p.m.

She had a little over an hour.

She started walking toward the bus stop.

Halfway there, her phone rang again.

This time it was her younger brother.

“Hello?”

“Sis.”

“Yes?”

“Did Mum tell you about school?”

“Yes.”

“I’m sorry.”

Amara stopped walking.

“Why are you apologizing?”

“Because the payment is expensive.”

“That’s not your fault.”

“But—”

“Listen to me.”

She smiled.

“You focus on your studies. Let me worry about the money.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’m sure.”

“Thank you.”

“Have you eaten?”

“Yes.”

“Good. I’ll see you later.”

“Okay.”

The call ended.

Amara continued walking.

She reached the bus stop just as a bus pulled away.

“Wait!”

She ran toward it.

The bus didn’t stop.

She stopped at the roadside, breathing heavily.

“Perfect.”

She looked at her watch.

5:59 p.m.

Another bus would come.

Eventually.

Twenty minutes later, she finally got one.

By the time she reached her second workplace, it was 6:43 p.m.

She hurried inside.

“You’re late.”

Amara looked at the supervisor.

“I’m sorry. The bus—”

“I don’t want excuses.”

Amara nodded.

“Okay.”

She quickly put on her work apron.

Her second job was at a small bakery.

Unlike the restaurant, she worked mostly behind the counter, serving customers, arranging pastries, cleaning, and sometimes helping with deliveries.

The pay wasn’t much.

But it helped.

Every little amount helped.

By nine o’clock, the bakery was quiet.

Amara wiped the counter while the supervisor counted the day’s earnings.

“You can go.”

She nodded.

“Thank you.”

She removed her apron and picked up her bag.

Outside, the streets were darker now.

She checked her phone.

Three missed calls.

Mum.

She called back immediately.

“Hello?”

“Where are you?”

“I’m coming home.”

“It’s late.”

“I know.”

“Be careful.”

“I will.”

Her mother hung up.

Amara smiled.

No matter how tired she was, hearing her mother’s voice always made something inside her feel lighter.

She walked home.

The house was small, but it was warm.

When she opened the door, she found her younger brother sitting at the table with his books spread out in front of him.

“You’re still awake?”

He looked up.

“I was waiting for you.”

“You should be sleeping.”

“I wanted to say goodnight.”

Amara dropped her bag.

“Come here.”

He stood up and hugged her.

She hugged him tightly.

“You’re growing too tall.”

He laughed.

“You say that every day.”

“Because it’s true.”

Their mother appeared from the bedroom.

“You’re finally home.”

“Yes, Mum.”

“You look exhausted.”

“I am.”

“Go and wash up. I kept some food for you.”

“You didn’t have to.”

“I know.”

Her mother smiled.

“But you’re my daughter.”

Amara walked into the small room she shared with her mother.

She changed clothes and washed her face before returning to the kitchen.

Her mother had already warmed the food.

Amara sat down.

“You should have eaten without waiting for me.”

“I wanted to.”

They sat quietly for a while.

Then her mother spoke.

“Amara.”

“Hmm?”

“Do you ever think about yourself?”

Amara looked up.

“What do you mean?”

“You’re always working.”

“I have to.”

“You’re young.”

“I know.”

“You should have friends. Go out sometimes. Enjoy yourself.”

Amara smiled.

“I’ll enjoy myself when I’m rich.”

Her mother laughed.

“You and this money.”

“It pays the bills.”

Her mother’s smile faded slightly.

“I don’t want you to spend your whole life struggling.”

Amara lowered her eyes.

“I won’t.”

“Promise me.”

“I promise.”

After dinner, Amara helped clean the kitchen.

Her brother had already gone to bed.

When everything was done, she checked her phone.

She opened her banking app again.

The amount in her account was painfully small.

She calculated her expenses in her head.

Rent.

Food.

Transportation.

School fees.

Electricity.

She opened her notes app and began writing.

School payment — urgent.

Electricity — next week.

Groceries — Saturday.

Transportation — daily.

She stared at the list.

Then she added one more thing.

Savings.

She smiled faintly.

Even if it was a tiny amount, she wanted to save.

One day, she wanted her own business.

Nothing huge.

Just a small fashion shop.

A place with beautiful clothes, bags, shoes, and accessories.

She had always loved fashion.

Whenever she passed a boutique, she would stop and admire the displays.

Sometimes she imagined herself owning one.

She knew it would take years.

But she didn’t mind.

She had learned that dreams didn’t have to happen quickly.

They only had to be worth chasing.

Her mother walked into the room.

“You’re still awake?”

“Just finishing something.”

“It’s almost midnight.”

“I know.”

“Sleep.”

“I will.”

Her mother left.

Amara closed the notes app.

She set her alarm.

5:00 a.m.

She placed the phone beside her pillow.

Then she lay down.

Her body was exhausted.

Her mind wasn’t.

Tomorrow she would wake up.

Go to work.

Come home.

Work again.

Help her family.

Save whatever she could.

And keep moving.

Because Amara had no rich family waiting to rescue her.

No inheritance.

No powerful connections.

No easy way out.

She only had herself.

And for now, that had to be enough.

She closed her eyes.

Tomorrow was another day.

And another fight.

She just didn’t know that tomorrow would bring someone who would change everything.