SOPHIE & THE DUKE 🔞

Chapter 1

Sophie

I smoothed my left hand over my rumpled dress as I ran my right hand through my curly Afro. My adoptive mom wouldn't stop yelling at me because I broke one of her favorite plates.

"You're such a clumsy person. I wish my dearest husband, may his soul rest in peace, Harry, had never picked you up from the streets. You are good for nothing," she said as she dragged my ear.

I winced in pain but didn't say anything, as I didn't want to be seen as an ungrateful child.

"I'm sorry, mu-"

"Shut your mouth! I am not your mother and I will never be. I can never be the mom of such a useless person. Make sure you wash every plate here, scrub the floor, and after you're done, get out of my kitchen and go back to the store to pick up a few groceries," she said with a malicious stare as she removed her hand from my ear and walked out of the kitchen.

I blinked away the painful tears that threatened to fall from my eyes as I went back to washing the plates carefully.

I missed Papa Harry. I wished he had never died from a heart attack. I was left outside on the cold streets of the Bronx when I was only six months old, and Papa Harry found me and brought me back home. However, I was never accepted by his wife, Helen, and his three daughters, partly because I was black. I never complained because I was content with the love and acceptance that Papa Harry showered on me.

I missed him so much.

I was twenty-one years old now and still content, even though I was maltreated every day after Papa Harry died. I didn't feel the urge to retaliate because I was grateful to have at least a family to call my own.

I finished washing and cleaning, then took money from Helen and went straight to the store to get some groceries.

"Hey, Sophie, how are you today?" Old Jack asked me. He was one of the elders who lived nearby and was fond of sitting around in his grandson's store, where we always bought our stuff.

"I'm doing alright, just here to pick up a few things. I hope you're not stressing yourself out with work," I asked him with concern.

"Oh, please, I'm too young to stress myself out," he said while laughing.
"You're 81," I said with a smile.
"And energetic, Sophie," he shot back at me.
"Okay, you win, Old Jack."
Old Jack was like a grandfather to me, and I loved him so much.

"Hey, Brian," I greeted Old Jack's grandson as I made my way to the counter, picking up the items I was told to buy.

Afterward, I went to the counter to have my items checked and calculated.

"Bye, Old Jack," I waved at him as I made my way back home.

The sun was scorching today. It was only one in the afternoon, and I wondered why it had to be so hot.

I took off the jacket I had on and tied it around my waist as I walked home.

I arrived home and saw Helen standing on the porch with a cigarette in her hand.

"Hey, don't you think it's about time you got a job? After all, you're what, twenty or nineteen?" she asked.

"I'm twenty-one, ma'am," I softly said without raising my head

"Okay, I don't care. My friend Fabiola called and told me there was a vacancy at her place of work, and I thought to myself, why not send Sophie since she has nothing to do around here other than breaking plates worth more than a fortune?" she said icily with a mischievous glare.

"You know my kids are in school now, and I'm too tired to work, so it would be better if you worked so you could repay every cent we've spent on you. You're to resume tomorrow by 8. I'll let you in on all the details later. Just go and cook; I'm starving," she added as she waved me off with her hands.

I nodded and made my way to the kitchen. It was pointless arguing with Helen; her word was final. I had accepted my fate a long time ago.

After dinner, she scribbled the address on a paper and tossed it at me. "You're going to meet Fabiola there in the morning, and one more thing: make sure my breakfast and lunch are ready, and my house is sparkling clean before you set foot out of this house tomorrow," she added as she sauntered out of the living room and into her bedroom.

I only nodded, anxious about what tomorrow might bring.

Why do good people suffer a lot ?