But she didn't notice, too absorbed in her own thoughts to catch the subtle change.
At this moment, her mind wandered to the tangled threads of her past and present, a web that only seemed to tighten around her whenever she gave it space.
The thoughts were dark and consuming, clawing at her resolve and leaving a painful throb in her head every time they surfaced.
In this life, the Achebe family still didn't treat her as one of their own, and deep down, she knew why, a reason they thought she was oblivious to. She already knew she was adopted.
At six years old, she had been taken in, her biological parents nothing more than fading shadows in her memory. They were most likely gone, and no amount of wishful thinking could change that.
Her chest ached as her heart slowly broke under the weight of the realization that had haunted her for years. 'I will never have a real home, will I?' The words echoed in her mind, tearing through her spirit like a relentless storm.
She blinked rapidly, trying to banish the tears threatening to spill. But the question lingered, raw and unresolved, as if the answer had already been etched into her soul long ago.
The man kept his gaze on her, confusion clouding his cold expression. 'Why does she look like she is about to cry?' Nothing he had done just now warranted this reaction.
He mulled over the scenario, replaying their interaction. He had tested her resilience with more intensity than he ever used with others.
For most people, one percent of his icy demeanor was enough to send them stumbling away, retreating awkwardly. Yet she had endured at least twenty percent without flinching, standing firm against his indifference and sharp words.
So why was she tearing up now, when he had done absolutely nothing?
Was it something else? Or had he miscalculated this girl entirely?
Then again, it didn't matter, did it? He dismissed the sight of her tears as irrelevant, convincing himself there was no reason to be concerned. Without another glance at her, he sat down, grabbed his phone, and forced his attention onto work.
The faint sound of her sobs filled the room, but he tuned it out, or tried to. Minutes passed, yet his focus refused to cooperate. Every hiccup, every trembling breath she released chipped away at the barrier he had erected.
By the time ten minutes had gone by, his concentration was completely shattered.
He thought about sending her out. After all, it wasn't like he had invited her into the room in the first place, right?
Five more minutes passed, and he couldn't take it anymore. The sound of her broken sobs gnawed at his patience, tugging at the edges of his resolve.
He glanced at her from the corner of his eye, a sharp flicker of annoyance crossing his face. Finally, he broke the silence.
"Keep yourself busy," he said, his voice low but firm.
Nnenna looked up in surprise, her swollen eyes meeting his. She had been so consumed by her thoughts that she had almost forgotten someone else was in the room.
"What?" she asked, her voice cracked and fragile, carrying the weight of her earlier tears.
"Keep yourself busy so you won't think sad thoughts. An idle mind is the devil's workshop, right?" he said, his tone indifferent as he turned back to his phone.
With the girl now too stunned to continue sobbing, he could finally focus.
She sat in a daze, staring at him for what felt like ages. Her mind replayed his words, trying to piece together whether they were meant to help or dismiss her.
But Four wasn't affected by her silence or her gaze. As far as he was concerned, as long as she was quiet, he could find some comfort in the peace she had unintentionally granted him.
Nnenna kept staring at the man, her thoughts swirling. 'Is he trying to cheer me up... or just shut me up?' she wondered, utterly baffled.
The realization hit her hard, she had completely forgotten he was even there when she broke down. It was the first time she had let herself cry since waking up from the coma last month.
'How embarrassing,' she thought, heat rising to her cheeks. She hurriedly wiped her tears with the back of her hands, trying to regain her composure. But her mind remained unsettled, unsure of how to interpret his words or actions.
"Yes, yes, okay," she said quickly, her voice unsteady as she hurriedly left the room.
At the door, she paused and turned to him, her eyes clearer now, holding a hint of newfound determination. "You should take your own advice. You seem to have a lot on your mind all the time. Stop giving the devil room."