20th August 1999.
"Mary! Where the heck are my shoes?" Mrs Bola screamed from the living room. Mary's reply was the loud echoing of her slippers as she hurried towards her boss's angry voice. Her sharp breathing carrying the weight of her urgency. A fact that wasn't lost on little Charles who could hear everything three rooms away from the scene.
Where was his mum going again?
As he thought this, he picked himself from his well-laid bed and headed towards the window to watch his neighbourhood kids play. He was bored out of his mind, but he knew if he went asking his mum for permission to play with those kids, he'd get the usual answer.
Knowing his mum was the owner of Harl shopping mall and fashion line was something he wished wasn't engraved In his mind. She had limitless ways of guilt-tripping him just so she could evade her responsibilities and this one was her favourite. She was never going to let him forget it.
