---
A New Beginning at the Café
"Thanks," Kayla said softly, her voice barely above a whisper.
---
Soon after, Roman introduced her to Ernesto, the gruff owner of a small but bustling café. At first, Ernesto had been reluctant to hire her, his skeptical eyes scanning her from head to toe. But after Roman's insistence and Kayla's promise to work diligently, Ernesto finally gave in.
Now, she stood behind the large glass display counter, phone in hand, fiddling with it absentmindedly.
The chime of the café door startled her as a group of boys entered, their carefree laughter echoing across the cozy space. They made themselves comfortable at a corner booth, spreading their arms across the chairs like they owned the place.
Kayla sighed deeply, slipping on her faded, mustard-yellow apron. Grabbing a pen and notepad, she made her way to their table.
---
"My Queen!"
The familiar voice made her freeze mid-step. Slowly, she lifted her gaze to meet Maxwell's cocky grin.
This guy again.
"Oh, Maxy. Is that you?" she said with a forced smile, trying not to roll her eyes.
"Yes, my Queen," he said dramatically, flashing a playful smirk.
Suppressing the urge to roll her eyes again, Kayla turned her attention to the rest of the group.
There were four of them: two twins with striking violet eyes and platinum blonde hair, and another with deep, dark skin but mesmerizing emerald-green eyes—a rare and almost otherworldly combination.
The green-eyed boy was undeniably beautiful, in a way that felt hard to describe. His features carried an effortless elegance, sharp yet soft. Beside him, Maxwell looked distinctly average.
"Won't you introduce us to the fine lady?" one of the twins asked with a sly smile.
Maxwell sighed dramatically. "Fine. These are Elia and Elias," he said, gesturing at the twins.
Kayla blinked. Elia and Elias? Really? Even their names sounded identical.
"And this is Linas," Maxwell added, pointing to the green-eyed boy.
"Hi," they all said in unison, flashing warm smiles.
"Hi," Kayla replied politely. "So, what would you all like to order?"
"Chocolate chip cookies," Elia said casually.
"Hamburger," Linas added with a soft voice.
Then came Elias. "Strawberry pie, strawberry shortcake, vanilla milkshake, yam sauce, rice chicken, orange latte, chicken wings, pasta, noodles, garri and soup…"
Kayla's brow twitched as the list went on. Elias continued, his expression completely serious.
"Toast grains, garnished bread, egg cake, warm milk, hotdog buns, tomato soup, papaya Meckus, pizza burger, lemonade juice, life corkage—"
"Dude!" the others exclaimed in unison, cutting him off.
Kayla pressed a hand to her forehead, trying to hide her growing frustration. Half the things Elias listed either didn't exist or weren't served in their tiny café. Papaya Meckus? Life corkage? Garri and soup?
Taking a deep breath, she said, "I'll bring what we actually have on the menu."
---
Kayla returned moments later with a tray of warm milk, a hamburger, chocolate chip cookies, hotdog buns, garnished bread, strawberry pie, and a strawberry shortcake.
She placed them on the table, and Elias was the first to mutter, "Good job."
But his praise quickly faded when he noticed the rest of his extravagant order was missing.
"What about the rest?" he asked, visibly disappointed.
"Those items aren't available here," Kayla said firmly. "But I can quickly make some noodles if you'd like."
Elias sighed but nodded. "Alright, thank you."
"So, how much?" Maxwell asked, pulling out his wallet.
"12 T-dollar bills," Kayla replied.
Maxwell handed her the cash with a smug smile. "Keep the change."
As if I needed it, she thought as she walked away, rolling her eyes.
---
Another Day Begins
After hours of exhausting work, Kayla finally stretched her aching body and stumbled into the bathroom for a quick shower.
She tied her long ginger hair into two messy buns—one on each side of her head—and walked into the kitchen where Akim and Roman were already seated. Breakfast was neatly arranged on the table.
"You're running late," Akim said without looking up from his plate.
Kayla ignored him and began eating hurriedly. Both brothers occasionally told her to slow down, but their words fell on deaf ears.
Once she was done, she grabbed her bag and dashed out the door before either of them could stop her.
---
The Paparazzi Storm
As Kayla arrived at the gates of Flinix High, she was greeted by chaos. A mob of paparazzi swarmed her like vultures, their flashing cameras and microphones blocking her path.
"Miss Kornels, is it true that Cecilia Lion's death was your fault?" one reporter barked.
"Was her heart attack caused by hearing about her daughter and son-in-law's arrest?" another added.
"Is it true you were the last person she spoke to before she died? Did you almost strangle her in anger?"
Kayla froze. Her heart raced as each question hit her like a slap across the face.
"You killed your grandmother out of greed, didn't you? After she refused to give you money—"
"SHUT UP!" Kayla screamed, her voice raw with emotion. "SHUT THE F**K UP, ALL OF YOU!"
The crowd went silent. Even the cameras stopped flashing.
"Who gave you the right to ask such stupid questions? To jump to such ridiculous conclusions without knowing the truth? Who told you I was the last person she spoke to? Did you know I was so scared to even see her because I thought the news would cause her heart to fail?"
Her voice trembled with rage and grief as she continued, "You people… you were the reason she died. Your constant harassment, your endless questions… You pushed her to the edge. Not me."
Tears welled up in her eyes, but she refused to let them fall in front of these people.
The reporters stood frozen, their microphones hanging limply at their sides. For once, their relentless questioning had been silenced.
Kayla shoved her way through the crowd, her breathing ragged, her vision blurred by unshed tears.
Her grandmother's face flashed in her mind—the warmth in her smile, the twinkle in her kind eyes.
And as Kayla walked through the gates of Flinix High, she made a silent promise to herself: She would clear her family's name, no matter what it took.