EPISODE 3

Purity stared at the little girl’s outstretched hand.

“My name is Mercy,” the girl repeated. “Are you the new helper?”

Purity did not answer.

Instead, she looked at her father.

“You brought me here to work?”

Matthew remained calm.

“Yes.”

“But you already agreed to that ridiculous school kitchen program.”

“And you will do both.”

Purity’s eyes widened.

“You cannot force me.”

Matthew held out his hand.

“Give me your phone.”

Purity immediately stepped back.

“No.”

“Then go inside.”

She looked at the old building again.

The paint was peeling from the walls. One of the windows had a crack in it. The small garden in front was dry and untidy.

Nothing about the place looked comfortable.

Nothing looked expensive.

Nothing looked like home.

Purity folded her arms.

“I am not staying here.”

Joyce moved closer to her daughter.

“Purity, no one is asking you to live here. You will volunteer for a few hours.”

“I do not care.”

Mercy slowly lowered her hand.

The smile disappeared from her face.

Purity noticed, but she looked away.

Matthew opened his palm again.

“Phone or volunteer work. Choose.”

Purity looked at the device in her hand.

Her whole life was inside that phone.

Her friends.

Her videos.

Her pictures.

Her social media accounts.

She could not imagine spending even one day without it.

With an angry expression, she pushed past Mercy and walked toward the entrance.

“Fine.”

Mercy’s smile returned.

She hurried after her.

“I can show you around.”

“I do not need a tour,” Purity replied.

Inside, the building looked even smaller.

The walls were decorated with drawings made by children. Some showed houses, trees, families, and bright yellow suns.

A group of children sat on the floor playing with old toys.

Some of the toys were broken.

One boy pushed a small car with only three wheels.

Another child held a doll with no hair.

Purity looked around with disgust.

“Do they not have better toys?”

Mercy shook her head.

“These are our toys.”

Purity did not know what to say.

A tall woman wearing a simple blue dress walked toward them.

She had a kind face, but her eyes were serious.

“Welcome,” she said.

Matthew smiled.

“Mrs. Esther, thank you for allowing Purity to volunteer here.”

Mrs. Esther looked at Purity.

“We are always grateful for extra help.”

Purity forced a smile.

Mrs. Esther extended her hand.

“It is nice to meet you.”

Purity hesitated before shaking it.

“Hello.”

Mrs. Esther turned toward the children.

“Everyone, this is Purity. She will be helping us on Saturdays.”

Several children smiled and waved.

Purity gave them a small wave.

Matthew looked at his daughter.

“We will return at four o’clock.”

Purity quickly turned around.

“You are leaving?”

“Yes.”

“You are not staying?”

“This is your responsibility,” Joyce said.

Purity hurried toward them.

“Mum, please.”

Joyce looked surprised.

Purity rarely said please.

But Joyce knew her daughter was only using the word because she was afraid of being left behind.

“You will be safe here,” Joyce said gently.

“I do not know these people.”

“You will get to know them.”

Purity lowered her voice.

“What am I supposed to do for five hours?”

“Whatever Mrs. Esther asks.”

Purity stared at her parents.

Then Matthew and Joyce walked out of the building.

Purity followed them to the door.

She watched as they entered the car.

Mr. Daniel started the engine.

The car slowly disappeared down the dusty road.

Purity could not believe it.

Her own parents had abandoned her in a place like this.

“You look sad,” Mercy said behind her.

Purity turned around.

“I am not sad.”

“Are you angry?”

“No.”

Mercy tilted her head.

“You look angry.”

Purity sighed.

“Why are you following me?”

“Mrs. Esther asked me to help you.”

“I do not need help.”

Mercy smiled.

“Everyone needs help sometimes.”

Purity rolled her eyes.

Mrs. Esther clapped her hands.

“Children, it is time to prepare lunch.”

The older children began moving toward the dining room.

Mrs. Esther looked at Purity.

“You can help in the kitchen.”

Purity nearly laughed.

“Of course.”

Mrs. Esther raised an eyebrow.

“Is there a problem?”

“No.”

Purity followed her into the kitchen.

The room was warm and crowded.

Two women stood beside a large pot of rice. Another woman chopped vegetables on a wooden table.

There were no expensive machines.

There was no shining marble floor.

There was no large refrigerator filled with different foods.

Purity looked into one of the pots.

“What are they eating?”

“Rice and vegetable stew,” Mrs. Esther replied.

“That is all?”

“That is what we have today.”

“No chicken?”

“No.”

“No fish?”

“No.”

Purity frowned.

“At home, even the servants eat better food than this.”

The kitchen became silent.

One of the women slowly looked up.

Mrs. Esther’s expression changed.

“Purity, come with me.”

She led her outside the kitchen.

“What did I do?”

“You spoke disrespectfully.”

“I was only telling the truth.”

“Truth without kindness can still be cruel.”

Purity crossed her arms.

“I did not insult anyone.”

“You compared their food to what servants eat in your home.”

“So?”

Mrs. Esther looked directly into her eyes.

“The people here work hard to provide food for these children. They do not need you to make them feel ashamed of what they have.”

Purity looked away.

At school and at home, people usually became quiet when she spoke harshly.

Mrs. Esther was different.

She did not look afraid of her.

“You may return to the kitchen,” Mrs. Esther continued. “But you must treat everyone with respect.”

Purity wanted to argue.

Then she remembered her phone.

“Fine.”

Back in the kitchen, one of the women placed a bowl of tomatoes in front of her.

“Please wash these.”

Purity stared at the tomatoes.

“With what?”

The woman pointed to the sink.

Purity walked toward it.

There was a bucket of water beside the sink.

She looked for a tap.

“Where is the running water?”

“The water supply stopped this morning,” the woman explained. “Use the bucket.”

Purity dipped one tomato into the water and quickly removed it.

“Finished.”

The woman looked at her.

“You must wash all of them properly.”

“There are too many.”

“There are twenty-two children to feed.”

Purity sighed loudly.

She began washing the tomatoes one by one.

A few minutes later, water splashed onto the front of her expensive white blouse.

She gasped.

“My shirt!”

Mercy, who was peeling onions nearby, looked at her.

“It is only water.”

“This blouse is expensive.”

Mercy looked down at her own faded dress.

“My dress belonged to another girl before me.”

Purity stared at her.

“You wear someone else’s clothes?”

Mercy nodded.

“When older children grow out of their clothes, younger children wear them.”

Purity imagined wearing Anita’s old clothes.

She shook her head.

“I could never do that.”

Mercy smiled.

“You could if you had to.”

Purity did not reply.

Soon, the smell of onions filled the kitchen.

Mercy’s eyes began watering.

Purity noticed the tears on her face.

“Why are you crying?”

“The onions.”

“Oh.”

Purity turned back to the tomatoes.

A moment later, she quietly pushed the bowl farther away from Mercy.

Mercy noticed, but she said nothing.

When lunch was ready, Mrs. Esther asked Purity to carry plates into the dining room.

Purity picked up two plates.

“You can carry more,” one of the women said.

“I might drop them.”

“Then walk carefully.”

Purity added two more plates.

Her hands felt heavy.

At home, she had never carried her own plate from the dining table.

She slowly walked into the dining room.

The children were already sitting at long wooden tables.

As soon as the food arrived, their faces became excited.

Purity placed a plate in front of a small boy.

He smiled brightly.

“Thank you.”

Purity paused.

No servant in the Williams mansion ever smiled like that after receiving a plate.

They usually kept their heads down and quickly returned to work.

Purity continued serving.

Every child thanked her.

Some said it quietly.

Others smiled.

One little boy clapped his hands when he saw the food.

Purity looked around the room.

There was no meat on the plates.

The portions were small.

Yet no one complained.

No one threw a plate onto the floor.

No one shouted because the food was not perfect.

Purity suddenly remembered Mrs. Ruth’s face that morning.

She remembered the tears in the cook’s eyes.

For the first time, the memory made her uncomfortable.

When everyone had been served, Mrs. Esther handed Purity a plate.

“You can eat with us.”

Purity looked at the food.

“I am not hungry.”

“You have been working all morning.”

“I do not eat vegetable stew.”

Mercy, who was sitting nearby, looked at Purity’s plate.

“If you do not want it, can I have it?”

Purity frowned.

“You already have food.”

Mercy looked down at her plate.

“I know. I wanted to save yours for later.”

“Why?”

“Sometimes we get hungry at night.”

Purity looked at Mrs. Esther.

“Is that true?”

Mrs. Esther’s face became serious.

“We try our best, but there are days when food is limited.”

Purity stared at the plate in her hand.

At home, she often wasted food.

Sometimes she ordered something and took only two bites.

Sometimes she refused meals because she did not like the way they looked.

Sometimes she demanded a completely different meal after the cook had spent hours preparing the first one.

She placed the plate in front of Mercy.

“You can have it.”

Mercy’s eyes lit up.

“Thank you.”

Purity sat beside her.

“You can eat it now.”

Mercy shook her head.

“I will save half.”

“Why?”

“For my brother.”

Purity looked around.

“Which one is your brother?”

Mercy pointed to a small boy sitting at the end of the table.

He looked about four years old.

His arms were very thin.

“He is called Samuel.”

“Why is he not sitting with you?”

“He likes sitting near Mrs. Esther.”

Purity watched the little boy eat.

“Where are your parents?”

Mercy’s smile faded.

“Our mother died when Samuel was a baby.”

“And your father?”

“I do not know where he is.”

Purity felt a strange heaviness in her chest.

She had always known that some children did not have parents.

She had seen stories online.

She had watched videos.

But sitting beside Mercy made it feel different.

“How long have you lived here?”

“Three years.”

“Do you like it?”

Mercy looked around the room.

“Yes.”

Purity was surprised.

“How can you like it here?”

Mercy shrugged.

“We are safe. We eat. We go to school. And we have each other.”

“But you do not have your own room.”

Mercy laughed.

“I share with five girls.”

“You do not have new clothes.”

“These clothes are still good.”

“You do not even have enough food.”

Mercy looked at Purity.

“We have more than some people.”

Purity became quiet.

No one had ever spoken to her that way before.

After lunch, Mrs. Esther announced that it was time to wash the dishes.

Purity quickly stood up.

“I served the food. Someone else can wash.”

Mrs. Esther shook her head.

“Everyone helps.”

“But there are so many plates.”

“Yes.”

Purity stared at the pile.

At school, the kitchen assignment was supposed to begin the next day.

Now she was already facing a mountain of dirty dishes.

Mercy carried a stack to the kitchen.

“Come on,” she said.

Purity reluctantly followed.

At first, she used too much soap.

Then she dropped a spoon.

Water splashed all over the floor.

One plate nearly slipped from her hands.

Mercy laughed.

Purity turned sharply.

“Stop laughing at me.”

“I am sorry,” Mercy said, still smiling. “You looked frightened by the plate.”

“It could have broken.”

“We have broken plates before.”

“At my house, people get into trouble for breaking things.”

“Do you?”

Purity paused.

“No.”

“Why not?”

Purity looked down at the plate.

“Someone else usually cleans it.”

Mercy handed her another dish.

“Then today you can clean it yourself.”

Purity wanted to be angry.

But something about the way Mercy said it made her smile.

It was a small smile.

So small that Mercy almost did not notice.

But she did.

“You smiled!”

“No, I did not.”

“Yes, you did.”

Purity quickly turned back to the sink.

After the dishes were finished, Mrs. Esther took Purity to the laundry area.

Several buckets of clothes were waiting.

Purity stared at them.

“You cannot be serious.”

Mrs. Esther handed her a piece of soap.

“You will help Mercy wash the younger children’s clothes.”

Purity looked at her hands.

“My nails will be ruined.”

Mrs. Esther walked away.

Purity turned to Mercy.

“I do not know how to wash clothes.”

“I will show you.”

Mercy placed a shirt into a bucket of soapy water.

She rubbed the cloth together, then rinsed it in clean water.

Purity copied her.

She worked slowly.

After several minutes, her back began to hurt.

“This is exhausting.”

Mercy nodded.

“Yes.”

“You do this every week?”

“Yes.”

“Why do the adults not do it?”

“They help too. But there is a lot of work.”

Purity looked at the pile of clothes.

At home, she threw dirty clothes onto the floor.

By evening, they disappeared.

The next day, they returned clean, ironed, and folded.

She had never thought about who washed them.

She had never wondered whether the person became tired.

She had never cared.

Purity scrubbed another shirt.

A dark stain remained on the front.

“It is not coming out.”

Mercy examined it.

“You have to scrub harder.”

Purity tried again.

The stain slowly disappeared.

“I did it,” she said.

Mercy smiled.

“Yes, you did.”

Purity looked at the clean shirt in her hands.

It was such a small thing.

But for some reason, she felt proud.

As they hung the clothes outside, Samuel ran toward them.

“Mercy!”

He wrapped his arms around his sister.

Mercy laughed and picked him up.

Samuel looked at Purity.

“Who are you?”

“She is Purity,” Mercy said. “She helped us today.”

Samuel stared at Purity’s clean shoes.

“You look like a princess.”

Purity smiled.

“I know.”

Mercy laughed.

Purity frowned at her.

“What?”

“You were supposed to sayity frowned at her.

“What?”

“You were thank you.”

Purity looked at Samuel.

“Thank you.”

Samuel reached into his pocket.

He pulled out a small paper flower.

It was unevenly cut and colored with a red pencil.

“This is for you,” he said.

Purity stared at it.

“For me?”

He nodded.

Purity slowly took the flower.

No one had ever given her something so cheap.

But Samuel looked at her as though he had offered her something valuable.

She carefully placed it in her pocket.

“Thank you.”

This time, she meant it.

Later that afternoon, Purity sat under a tree with Mercy and Samuel.

Several children played nearby.

A little girl fell and scraped her knee.

Purity expected one of the adults to run toward her.

But Mercy stood first.

She helped the girl up, wiped the dust from her dress, and comforted her.

Purity watched silently.

“You take care of everyone,” she said when Mercy returned.

“The little ones need help.”

“Do you not get tired?”

“Sometimes.”

“Then why do you do it?”

Mercy looked at Samuel.

“Because I love them.”

Purity looked away.

She thought about Sarah bringing her shoes.

Mary running to get her juice.

Mrs. Ruth preparing breakfast.

Mr. Daniel opening car doors.

Her parents giving her everything she asked for.

They had spent years taking care of her.

What had she ever done for them?

The sound of a car interrupted her thoughts.

The Williams family car stopped outside the building.

Purity quickly stood up.

Matthew and Joyce stepped out.

Joyce expected Purity to run toward them, complaining about the day.

But Purity remained under the tree.

Mercy and Samuel stood beside her.

“How was it?” Joyce asked.

Purity shrugged.

“It was fine.”

Matthew looked surprised.

“Only fine?”

Purity glanced at Mrs. Esther, who was walking toward them.

“She worked hard,” Mrs. Esther said. “There were a few difficult moments, but she completed every task.”

Matthew raised his eyebrows.

“You washed dishes?”

Purity looked embarrassed.

“And clothes.”

Joyce smiled.

“I am proud of you.”

Purity almost rolled her eyes.

But she stopped herself.

Samuel stepped forward.

“Will Purity come back tomorrow?”

“No,” Purity replied quickly.

Samuel’s face fell.

Mercy touched his shoulder.

“She will come next Saturday.”

Purity looked at her father.

Matthew nodded.

“That was the agreement.”

Purity sighed.

Then she looked at Samuel.

“I will come next Saturday.”

Samuel smiled.

On the drive home, Purity was quieter than usual.

She took the paper flower from her pocket and examined it.

Joyce noticed.

“Who gave you that?”

“A boy named Samuel.”

“It is beautiful.”

Purity looked at the uneven paper petals.

Normally, she would never describe it as beautiful.

But she placed it carefully inside her school bag.

When they reached the mansion, Mary opened the front door.

“Welcome home, Miss Purity.”

Purity walked past her.

Then she stopped.

Mary looked nervous.

“Yes, Miss Purity?”

Purity hesitated.

She was not used to apologizing.

The word felt difficult.

“About the orange juice this morning…”

Mary waited.

Purity looked at the floor.

“It was fine.”

Mary seemed confused.

Purity took a breath.

“And I am sorry for shouting.”

Mary’s eyes widened.

For several seconds, she did not speak.

Then she smiled.

“Thank you, Miss Purity.”

Purity nodded and hurried upstairs.

Matthew and Joyce had heard everything.

They looked at each other.

It was only a small apology.

It did not erase years of bad behavior.

But it was a beginning.

In her bedroom, Purity placed Samuel’s flower on her desk.

Her phone was filled with messages from Anita.

How was the children’s home?

Did you survive?

Call me!

Purity picked up the phone.

She was about to reply when she noticed movement outside her window.

In the garden below, Mary was carrying a heavy basket of clothes.

Purity watched her struggle.

For a moment, she considered looking away.

Then she remembered Mercy’s words.

Everyone needs help sometimes.

Purity placed her phone on the bed.

She walked downstairs and stepped into the garden.

Mary stopped when she saw her.

“Miss Purity, do you need something?”

Purity looked at the basket.

“No.”

Mary waited.

Purity reached out and took one side of it.

“I am helping you carry this.”

Mary stared at her in complete shock.

“Miss Purity?”

“Do not make it a big thing,” Purity said quickly.

Together, they carried the basket toward the laundry room.

From an upstairs window, Joyce watched them.

Tears filled her eyes.

Perhaps the daughter she once knew was not completely gone.

But far away from the Williams mansion, another problem was beginning.

At Hope Children’s Home, Mrs. Esther sat alone in her office.

A man wearing a dark suit stood across from her.

He placed several papers on the desk.

“I am sorry,” he said. “But the building owner has made his decision.”

Mrs. Esther looked at the document.

Her hands began shaking.

“You cannot close this place. The children have nowhere else to go.”

“The rent has not been paid for six months.”

“Please give us more time.”

“You have thirty days.”

The man picked up his briefcase and walked toward the door.

Mrs. Esther stared at the papers.

In thirty days, Hope Children’s Home could disappear.

And none of the children knew.

Not Mercy.

Not Samuel.

And not Purity.

TO BE CONTINUED…