THROUGH THE SHADOWS

Pamela's heart pounded as the painful memories of her parents' untimely deaths surged through her mind. Her eyes fluttered shut as she groaned softly, fighting against the onslaught of images that invaded her thoughts. The scene of that fateful day, the sharp crack of gunshots, and the echo of her screams—all too vivid. It had been years, yet the memory remained fresh, raw, and unforgiving.

It all started on a Monday morning, like any other. Pamela and her younger brother, Alexander, were preparing for school. The kitchen was filled with the familiar sound of clinking cups and the soft hum of the radio. Pamela, a diligent student, packed her bag, ensuring her notes were in order for the day ahead. Alex, on the other hand, was his usual energetic self, half-focused on his homework and half-distracted by the allure of adventure outside.

Then, the knock at the door came.

"Come in, it's open," Pamela's father, Mr. Johnson, called from the parlour, his voice warm and welcoming, as always.

But when the door creaked open, an unfamiliar figure stood in the doorway. Two men, tall and imposing, their faces hidden beneath dark hats, stepped into the room with an air of authority. Pamela froze. The unease that washed over her was instant.

Her father, ever the calm figure, set his newspaper aside and stood. "How can I help you, gentlemen?"

The two men raised their guns without a word, the sharp metal gleaming in the morning light. Pamela's mother gasped. "Please, we'll give you whatever you want," she pleaded, her voice trembling.

"We need nothing but your lives," one of the men responded, his voice cold and devoid of any mercy.

And just like that, in a flash that seemed too surreal to be true, the men fired. The sound was deafening, and Pamela's mind screamed in protest, but her body was frozen. Her parents collapsed before her, their lives snatched away in an instant.

"No!" Pamela shrieked, her voice raw as the shock of that moment tore through her. She was just a child, no older than fifteen, yet the brutality of that memory stayed with her, carving its painful mark on her soul.

She squeezed her eyes shut, willing the memory to fade, but it lingered like a shadow, too powerful to escape. Pamela collapsed onto the floor, her chest heaving with sobs. The tears came in waves, uncontrollable and relentless, as the world around her seemed to slip into a haze of grief.

After a long, agonizing moment, she wiped her face with the back of her hand, determined to push the past away—if only for a little while. She had to move on, for herself, and for Alex, who still relied on her.

But no matter how hard she tried to bury it, the pain lingered.

Pamela rose to her feet and, with a heavy heart, knelt beside her small bed, offering a silent prayer to the heavens. It was a ritual she performed each day, a way to ground herself, to seek solace in her faith when the world felt too overwhelming.

Her name was Pamela Johnson, but those who knew her best called her Ella—a nickname that felt more like a shield than a simple moniker. She was tall, much like her father had been, with a strong presence that made her stand out in any room. At twenty-three, Ella had become both the caretaker and protector of her younger brother, Alex. He was only fourteen, but already, he carried a sharp mind and a quick wit. His innocence was something she desperately wanted to preserve, even as she fought to make ends meet.

Ella had always been an introvert. She never sought the company of others, and friendships had never come easily. Her life had always been about survival, providing for Alex and herself. She lived in a one-room apartment in the outskirts of Agoro Town, a modest space that had become her sanctuary from the chaos outside.

Her job at A&B Restaurant was her lifeline, the one thing that kept the bills paid and food on the table. The restaurant was one of the best in Agoro, and though it wasn't glamorous, it offered Ella a stable income. The hours were long, and the work was demanding, but she had no choice. Alex was still in school at Great Students Academy (GSA), a boarding school where Ella made sure he received the education he deserved, even if it meant sacrificing her own comfort.

As Ella finished her prayer, she stood up, feeling a sense of peace wash over her. She glanced at the clock on the wall. It was already past six-thirty, and she was running late. She quickly got dressed, tying her hair into a neat bun, and grabbed her small purse before heading out the door.

Ella's first task of the day was always to find a taxi. But in Agoro, that was often easier said than done. She walked briskly toward the main road, her eyes scanning the street for an available cab. The sun had just begun to rise, casting a soft orange glow over the town, but it was already a busy morning, with people rushing to work.

She saw the first taxi coming down the street and hailed it, waving her hand as the vehicle slowed. "A&B Restaurant," she said with a firm voice, hoping to make the short trip without delay.

"Three pence," the driver replied flatly, his gaze fixed ahead.

Ella shook her head. "One penny," she bargained.

The driver clicked his tongue and waved her off, shaking his head. She sighed in frustration, but she wasn't one to give up easily. She waved down the next taxi, and the same exchange happened.

By the time the fourth taxi arrived, she was growing impatient, but she held her ground.

"One penny," she said, trying to keep her voice steady.

After a long moment, the driver sighed. "Fine," he muttered, and Ella slid into the back seat, relieved that her persistence had paid off. But as the car rumbled down the road, she couldn't shake the uneasy feeling that had settled in her chest. She was late. What if she was fired today?

The taxi pulled up in front of A&B Restaurant, and Ella paid the driver before hurrying inside. The restaurant was already bustling, customers taking their seats and placing orders. She quickly signed in, glancing at the clock above the timebook—just a minute before seven.

Ella moved swiftly through the restaurant, greeting her coworkers and customers with practiced ease. Her mind was focused, the worries about her lateness fading as she slipped into the rhythm of her work. She took orders, served food, and kept everything running smoothly without a hitch. The hours flew by as she worked tirelessly, offering a warm smile to customers and quietly soaking in the small tips that made all the difference.

But it wasn't just the tips that made her day rewarding—it was the feeling of purpose. For those few hours, as the restaurant buzzed with activity, Ella was able to forget the crushing weight of her grief. She didn't think about her parents, her struggles, or the lingering questions that haunted her. She just worked, her focus on nothing but the tasks at hand.

At noon, when the restaurant was less crowded, Ella had a rare moment to catch her breath. She went into the back room, her feet aching, but the tiredness was familiar. As she sat down on a small stool and took a sip of water, she felt a soft tap on her shoulder. It was Grace, her only real friend at work.

"Long day, huh?" Grace asked, a knowing smile on her face.

"Yeah," Ella said, offering a tired smile. "But I'm managing."

Grace lowered her voice. "I heard you got a big tip from that couple in the corner booth. They must really like your service."

Ella's heart lifted. The money would go a long way. "I guess I did," she said. "It's the best I've gotten in a while."

"Good for you. You deserve it."

As the sun began to set, the restaurant became even more crowded. Ella was on her feet again, moving between tables, taking orders, and delivering food. It was exhausting, but it was also rewarding. By the time the restaurant closed at ten, she had accumulated more tips than she ever expected. She counted the money in her small room that night, marveling at the ten pounds she had earned—more than enough to pay Alex's school fees for the month and buy some much-needed groceries.

She felt a rare sense of satisfaction as she climbed into bed. Today had been a good day. But even in her moments of rest, Ella knew that the mystery of her parents' deaths still lingered in her heart. She could never forget what happened to them—and she wasn't sure if she ever would.

The next morning, Ella woke with a renewed sense of purpose. Sundays were her day off, a time to rest and reflect after a long week of work. As she prepared for church, her mind wandered to the possibility of something more, something beyond the routine of her days.

Little did she know, this Sunday would mark the beginning of a new chapter in her life—one that would uncover long-buried secrets and set her on a path she never imagined.