« Boy, » she said, raising an eyebrow, « you look like you’ve swallowed a ghost. Call that lady, or throw that card away. »
Malik smiled faintly. His grandmother always knew how to keep things simple.
He picked up the phone.
The bell rang once. Then twice.
« Domaine Delacroix, » replied a calm voice.
« Uh… hello. My name is Malik. I… uh… helped Vivian the other night and she gave me this number. »
« Just a moment, » the voice said quickly. A click. Then silence.
And her voice, warm and familiar.
« Malik. I was hoping for your call. »
An unexpected invitation
The following Saturday, a gleaming black sedan pulled up in front of Malik’s building. He almost didn’t get in—it all seemed unreal. But when the driver rolled down the window and said, « Mrs. Delacroix is waiting for you, » something inside him felt confident.
The mansion looked even larger in the daylight. He walked through marble halls and up glass staircases until he found Vivian, sitting in a sunlit winter garden, a cup of tea in her hand.
« You came, » she said with a smile. « Good. I wanted to thank you properly. »
« I… I didn’t do anything extraordinary, » replied Malik, a little nervously. « I just walked you home. »
« You did so much more, » she replied. « You restored my dignity. You saw a person, not a burden. That means more than you realize. »
She invited him to sit down.
« You remind me of someone, » she said. « My son. He died years ago. He was your age when he started to show great promise. I see the same light in you. »
Malik lowered his eyes, embarrassed. « I’m just trying to avoid trouble. »
« Trying is already a good start, » she said. « But I think you’re destined for something bigger. »
The proposal
For the next hour, Vivian questioned Malik about his life. School. His dreams. His difficulties.
Finally, she put down her cup and looked him straight in the eyes.
« I want to finance your education, » she said. « Private high school. University. Whatever you want to study, wherever you want. »
Malik’s jaw dropped. « Wait… are you serious? »
She nodded. « Absolutely. And that’s not all. I’d like you to come here twice a week—help in the garden, learn about the house’s organization, spend time with me. Think of it as mentorship, not charity. »
« I… I don’t know what to say, » he stammered.
« Say yes, » she replied. « And show me what a good heart can accomplish with the right support. »
Malik swallowed the lump in his throat.
» Yes. «
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