Zaria didn't know what to expect when Sarah found out the truth—that she had sat for her PLE exams in secret, and passed with flying colors. For days after the results were announced, Zaria walked around the house on edge, waiting for the inevitable wrath. She couldn't even enjoy her own success, not with the fear of what her stepmother might do hanging over her like a dark cloud.
She had expected shouts, insults, maybe even a beating. After all, she had defied Sarah's orders. She had lied. She had sneaked out of the house for three days. And worst of all, she had dared to dream without permission.
But what came instead was silence.
Then, something unexpected happened.
Sarah changed.
At first, it was little things. Zaria noticed that the woman's voice no longer carried that familiar tone of cruelty when she called her. She had even started calling her by name instead of "you girl" or "this thing." Zaria thought maybe it was a trap, that Sarah was just waiting for the right moment to pounce.
But the days passed, and the change held.
One evening, after supper, Sarah looked at Zaria across the room and said gently, "Zaria, tomorrow you can just wash the utensils and clean the house. I'll take care of the rest. No need to go out for firewood anymore. We'll be buying it from the market."
Zaria stared at her, confused. "Okay... Ma," she replied slowly, unsure if she was being tested.
"And after you're done, you can rest," Sarah added. "You can even sit and watch TV with your sisters."
Zaria blinked rapidly. She wasn't sure if she'd heard right. Did Sarah just tell her to rest? To watch TV? She turned to look at Mary Florence and Claire Rina, expecting the usual mocking glares, but even their expressions were softer now. Claire even moved over on the couch and patted the space next to her.
"Come," she said, without a sneer. "We're watching your favorite show."
Zaria sat cautiously, still watching everyone with suspicion. Her heart thudded with a mix of anxiety and disbelief. She had always imagined a day when she'd be treated like a real member of the family, but she never thought it would come like this. Not after all she had endured.
The TV flickered in the background, but Zaria couldn't focus on it. Her mind was racing. Why now? She looked at Sarah, who was humming quietly as she wiped the table. Mary was braiding Claire's hair, chatting softly. No one was yelling. No one was giving her a list of chores. No one was threatening to punish her.
Zaria sat still for a moment, her hands folded tightly in her lap. Her eyes burned with the effort of holding back tears. It felt like a dream. Maybe she had fallen asleep somewhere, maybe this wasn't real.
The following days were even more surreal.
Sarah bought fresh clothes for her—new dresses, not second-hand ones from the neighbor's daughter. She brought home slippers, notebooks, and even a small handbag.
"These will be useful when you join secondary school," she said, placing the items on Zaria's bed.
Zaria couldn't find her voice. She just nodded, her hands trembling slightly as she touched the new things. They smelled of a shop—not the village market but an actual shop in town.
That night, while lying on her mattress, staring up at the ceiling, she whispered to herself, "I didn't know that humans can camouflage like chameleons."
It was the only explanation she could think of. How else could someone so cold, so bitter, suddenly turn into this… caring person?
But even though confusion lingered in her heart, so did something else—something warmer. Hope.
This was what she had longed for since day one. To be seen. To be heard. To be treated like a daughter, like a sibling. To belong.
One afternoon, as Zaria finished folding clothes, Sarah called her into the sitting room.
"I wanted to talk to you," she said, motioning for Zaria to sit.
Zaria lowered herself onto the chair cautiously.
"I know I've not been a good mother to you," Sarah began, not meeting her eyes. "I let anger and bitterness blind me. I didn't see you for who you are."
Zaria's throat tightened.
"I was angry at your mother," Sarah continued. "Angry that your father loved her once. I took it out on you. That wasn't right."
Zaria looked at her, stunned. In all her years in that house, she had never heard Sarah speak like this.
"But what you did—studying in secret, sitting your exams, passing with the best marks in the district—it opened my eyes. You're smart. Brave. Determined. You did what even some children with support can't do."
Sarah paused. "And you did it all without me. Without anyone."
Zaria blinked rapidly, a tear escaping the corner of her eye. She quickly wiped it away.
"You deserve better," Sarah said. "I may never be able to undo the things I did, but I want to try."
That night, when Zaria lay in bed, her chest ached—not from sadness, but from release. From the weight that was finally starting to lift. Her sisters had started involving her in conversations, asking for her opinion on clothes or movies. Claire even let her borrow a scarf to wear to church.
It was still new, still strange. But it was happening.
For the first time in her life, Zaria didn't feel invisible in that house.
She stood in front of the mirror one morning, brushing her hair, and caught her reflection smiling. A soft, hesitant smile. The kind that came from deep inside.
She thought of all the nights she cried alone, of the empty birthdays, of the days she wished she could disappear. And now, things were changing—not perfectly, not overnight—but changing nonetheless.
Zaria still didn't fully trust the peace. There was a part of her that waited for the other shoe to drop. But even so, she allowed herself to dream again. To imagine what life might look like if this new version of Sarah stayed. If her sisters continued to treat her like one of them. If this house, which had always felt like a cage, could finally become a home.
She turned away from the mirror, walked to the living room, and sat beside her stepsisters. Sarah came out of the kitchen holding cups of juice for all three of them.
"Rest, my girl," she said, placing one in Zaria's hand. "You've earned it."
And for the first time, Zaria believed her.