Later that evening, Catherine returned to the compound. Auntie Carol sat rigidly on the bench outside the house, her posture tense, eyes sharp as if she were ready to pounce. Her two daughters flanked her like guards.
“Prostitute!” one of the daughters spat, her voice dripping with disgust.
Catherine froze, her heart pounding, unsure who they meant.
“Good evening, Auntie Carol,” she said cautiously.
Carol sprang to her feet, almost grabbing her. Catherine stumbled back quickly, narrowly avoiding her grasp.
“So, you want to start prostitution in my house?” Auntie Carol hissed.
Catherine shook her head, bewildered.
“Auntie, what are you talking about?”
“You’ve started going out with men when I send you to sell pure water and better your life. Mama and Ketchi saw you coming out of a man’s car today.”
“No, Auntie, it’s not like that. The man was—”
“So there was a man,” Carol’s second daughter interrupted sharply.
“It’s true. You’re sleeping with men under my nose?” Auntie Carol cried, her hands flailing.
“Auntie, I can explain. It’s not what you think. He was just—”
“Shut up!” Auntie Carol snapped, silencing her instantly. “Your days in this house are over.”
“Dara,” she called to her first daughter, “bring out her bag.”
The daughter dragged a small bag from the corner and threw it at Catherine.
Catherine sank to her knees, tears streaming down her face.
“Auntie, please. I have nowhere else to go.”
“Mommy, you haven’t collected the money from her yet,” the second daughter said.
“Give me my money,” Auntie Carol demanded sharply.
Catherine reached into her bag, pulled out the money, and handed it over.
“Now carry your useless self and get out of my house!” Auntie Carol roared.
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