It was a quiet morning in the Golden Villa. Aviona was in the garden, staring blankly at the flowers before her. The memory of last night was fresh in her memory, so was the purple welt that was apparent in her wrist. Martin's roughness last night left a painful mark on her hands as well as in her heart. She had cried the whole night and that was the main reason why she didn't go to work that day, her head was aching, so was her eyes.
"Hello Madam, do you have any work available for me?" A tiny voice disturbed Aviona's solitude and she turned to see Clay, their gardener's son standing few meters from her with his bright caramel eyes.
"Hello Clay," Aviona tried to paint a smile on her face for the boy, "Is your mother sick again?"
"No madam, she's well," Clay responded right away. "But I don't have a class and so I asked father if I could come. I heard from father and the kitchen's maid conversation that you are around"
