#Chapter40
MJ could not remember the last time she came to this house. She did not remember whether it was before Alastair adopted her or after she started the business; but she could never forget the house that was once her shelter.
The old, brick-layered mansion still stood out amongst the beauty of the social elites of London, its red-tiled roof giving it a classic look. The yard was bare of any vehicles, it was free of plants or lawn, and the place that was once a pool, was replaced by an ugly fountain and a mini garden after one kid almost drowned.
The interior of the house was modern and yet traditional, filled with imported accessories from South Africa and Nigeria. The couch in the sitting room resembled the skin of a leopard, and the pale walls were decorated with traditional, seamed mats and other Zulu and Tsonga gears.
