Page 278 of Invisible Bars

Chiamaka's gaze flitted to the world outside the sleek, tinted windows, her head swiveling to take in the sprawling city streets.

“Am I really going to stay with you? Like... for real?” she asked, hope and disbelief mixed in her voice.

“Yes, Amaka. For real,” I replied, chuckling as I adjusted my sunglasses, feeling the warmth of the sun on my face.

Her face broke into a wide grin. “This car smells expensive. You got money-money.”

I laughed lightly. “Correction—my husband is the one with the money. But again, w-what’s mine is his and what’s his is definitely mine,” I added with a cheeky wink. “You’ll have your own room, your own private space in our home. But j-j-just to make it clear—no boys coming over, at least for now. Understood?”

“Loud and clear,” she answered quickly, her eyes still filled with wonder.

“Y-you won’t have to stress about finding a job. I’m not going to let you go without anything you need, but you will enroll in college,” I emphasized, hoping to instill the importance of education in her.

Chiamaka straightened up in her seat, her excitement bubbling over. “I absolutely want to! I already have my career in mind.”

“Oh really? And what might that be?” I inquired, genuinely curious.

“An interior designer,” she declared confidently, enthusiasm radiating from her. “I love making spaces beautiful. I dream of designing stunning homes, elegant offices, and maybe even staging events.”

I nodded slowly, a proud little smile creeping across my face.

“Okay then. I can see it n-now—Interior Designer Amaka,” I encouraged her, envisioning her future success.

Before Chiamaka could respond, I pointed toward the floor with a teasing glint in my eye.

“Go ahead and pick up that bag,” I instructed.

Chiamaka bent down eagerly and lifted the pristine white shopping bag, her curiosity visible. Inside, she found the latest model of an iPhone, still nestled in the box, accompanied by a set of stylish accessories and a glittery phone case that I had picked out for her, knowing it would perfectly reflect her lively personality.

She covered her mouth. “Nooooo, Naji! You didn’t have to!”

“I did,” I quipped with a small smile. “L-look at it as your chance to start completely over. And one last thing—we gotta get you some new clothes. Not trying to erase your heritage—technically, it’s mine too—but s-sis, this is the U.S. You don’t want folks looking at you like you royalty and trying to rob you. Bling-bling, gone-gone, who took the crown?!”

Chiamaka chuckled, then sheepishly looked down at her clothes.

“Yeah… I was thinking about that.”

“No worries. I g-got you. And I already know theperfectperson to go shopping with us.”

Her eyes widened. “Who?”

“Her name is Dessign…literally.She’s my sister-in-law. You’ll love her,” I grinned.

“You’re gonna make me cry. I have the best sister ever!”

Chiamaka leaned across the seat and wrapped me in a tight hug as tears slid down her cheeks.

My throat closed up, and my fingers fluttered—one of my tics slipping through as I blinked hard.

“Don’t make me cry, damn it!” I muttered. “Blurry roads and big feelings don’t mix.”

We both laughed through the tears.

As we pulled up to the grand estate, Chiamaka's eyes widened in disbelief, and her jaw dropped.

"Oh my God!" she exclaimed, flinging open the car door the moment we came to a stop. She darted out onto the expansive circular driveway, spinning joyfully like a child on Christmas morning.

"This is your house? This isn’t just a house; it’s a luxurious hotel!"