Jasmine’s POV
“Miss Lockheart, do you have a prince?” little Amanda asks, her big, curious eyes fixed on me, sparkling with innocence.
I’m momentarily caught off guard, silencing any witty replies that might dance on my tongue.
“Do you?” Ray interjects, eyebrows raised, crossing his little arms. He exudes this protective vibe, but his curiosity is hard to miss, which makes me chuckle at his adorable earnestness.
“Nope, no prince here,” I tell him, giving his hair a playful ruffle. He scowls for a moment but can’t help but break into a wide grin, quickly morphing it into a cheeky smile. “Well, that’s good! I am your only prince!” he declares, puffing out his chest like he’s some superhero.
“Ugh, Ray, you can’t be her Prince Charming. You’re too young, and soon enough she’ll need to find someone to marry,” Amanda throws in with an exaggerated roll of her eyes, a hint of sass creeping in.
Their banter continues, a playful back-and-forth that I find amusing, but as I tune out their childish arguments, my mind starts wandering. The notion of romantic interests feels foreign to me at this point. I can’t remember the last time I actually pondered anything resembling a relationship. Sure, I had fleeting childhood fantasies about knights and fairy tales—a stray thought of a dashing prince, but that was just child’s play.
“Miss Lockheart?”
“Yes, sweetheart?” I reply, snapping back to the present.
“I just have this feeling that you’re going to meet your prince charming soon,” Amanda utters with the kind of sincerity only a child can muster, her smile sweet and hopeful.
“Well, if that’s how it is, I’ll have to give him the once-over first,” Ray grumbles, irritation evident on his face. The kids and I chuckle at his exaggerated seriousness, while Amanda rolls her beautiful almond eyes and playfully swats Ray on the back of his head.
“Ouch! What was that for?!” Ray yelps, rubbing the spot with a dramatic flair.
Amanda shakes her head, a small smile creeping onto her lips. “You’re such a dork,” she mutters, feigning annoyance.
“Ding-dong!!” The doorbell chimes in, breaking through our playful banter. “All right, all right, enough of that. You guys, stay put; I’m going to see who’s at the door.”
“Okay!” They chime back, diving back into their toys without a second thought.
It’s probably the new volunteer Anne mentioned. I glance at the camera screen and see a young man standing there, his head bent over his phone—tall, dark-skinned, but the angle hides his face. I can’t make out his face, but I know the security guard probably vetted him. Still, a second glance never hurts. Better safe than sorry in these times. I tap the intercom.
“Joseph, confirm Mr Ndiaga’s clearance for me?”
The radio crackles immediately. “Verified at 3:23 p.m., Miss Jasmine. Passport, police check, fingerprint scan and signed confidentiality forms all cleared through the head office. Even checked his references with Sister Marguerite in Dakar.”
Sister Marguerite? That got my attention. Our liaison didn’t vouch for just anyone. Still, I scan the visitor log on my tablet—Nicodème Fernando Ndiaga—all green checkmarks. Seeing his photo, my breath catches. Nick Fernando. Justin’s Nick? I question myself, before my eyes flick back to the grainy screen.
“Good afternoon. How can I help you?” I keep my tone friendly, hiding my surprise.
“Good afternoon! I’m the new volunteer,” he replies in a deep voice that has a familiar ring to it.
“Oh, okay, just a moment.” I unlock the door with a mix of anticipation and nerves.
Anne tends to call me paranoid sometimes. The security team does their job, but I can’t shake this instinct to double-check. Is that a flaw? Maybe. In time, I hope to outgrow it.
“Jasmine?” Nick asks, a mix of surprise and recognition colouring his tone.
“Yeah, it’s me. I work here—or rather, I’m part of this crazy family.”
“Oh wow, small world, huh?” Nick grins, his eyes flickering in the fluorescent light. Oh, for a split moment there, I forgot his eyes are hazel. I force my gaze away, focusing on the orphanage logo embroidered on his volunteer lanyard. Since when do you notice a man’s eyes, Jasmine? The voice in my head sounds too much like my mother.
“Yeah…” The air thickens with a comfortable silence, and I know I need to break it to avoid an awkward pause stretching between us.
“Anne mentioned you’d be starting soon. She said she filled you in on how things run around here.” I turn to lead him back to the kids, hoping to ease the tension.
“Yeah, she did. I came by about two weeks ago for a training week,” he adds, falling into step beside me.
Ah, that explains it—during the time I was caught up with classes and tutoring. No wonder I hadn’t seen him before.
“Perfect. That should make things smoother then. The kids are already a bit familiar with you, so that’s a relief.”
I release a silent breath, relieved that the kids have decided to take a break from their usual antics. It’s their way of sizing someone up—testing the waters to figure out what kind of person they’re dealing with.
They gave it a shot with me, but I caught on quickly to their little game. Smart kids; they didn’t push it once they saw I was onto them.
He chuckles lightly, a glimmer of nostalgia dancing in his eyes. “I passed their test,” he says, as if rolling through a memory of the events that played out.
We halt for a moment, locking eyes, and then burst into laughter.
“Umm, what’s so funny?” Ray interrupts, bringing our attention to the kids who have decided to join us.
“Nothing.” I bite the inside of my cheek, trying to anchor my expression. “What are you guys doing here?”
Ray maintains a suspicious look, as if he wasn’t buying my nonchalant answer.
“You took too long, so we came to check on you,” Amanda pipes in, her cheeks flushing red. I raise an eyebrow, surprised by her sudden shyness. It hits me then—the man next to me has made an impression.
I stifle a laugh. Oh boy…looks like Amanda has a little crush on Nick. “Alright, kids, enough chit-chat. Time to get back to your homework. I know Aunty Anne gave you some work, so don’t even try to wiggle out of it.” I shoot them a mock stern look, though they get plenty of practice—Anne likes them to stay engaged.
Nick’s brow creases, clearly trying to make sense of the kids’ routine—prompting me to fill him in as the kids shuffle off to the sitting room, grumbling all the while.
Anne probably didn’t mention the teachers to Nick—she was usually juggling so much.
“Unfortunately, we’re not at the point where we can enrol all the kids in a school. For now, we have a few dedicated people who personally teach them different subjects. They’re actually qualified, so they’re not just learning random stuff.” I tip my head back a fraction.
“Oh, okay, I guess Anne forgot to mention that detail.”
“Yeah, she most probably forgot to mention it; she’s always juggling a dozen things at once.”
We are now in the kitchen, and a few snacks have been prepared for the kids to have as they study. I can sense Nick silently watching my every move. “You really love them.”
I exhale out a small, airy sound, shifting my focus to my bracelet. “Yeah, you could say that.”
How could I not? They’re my family—the one I chose. My mood veering, I deftly tidy the counter and ask for his help with picking up the trays.
“Yay, snacks!” One of the kids fist-pumps the air as he notices our arrival.
“Ugh, I desperately need it—before…before my brain explodes.”
I chuckle at Amanda’s dramatic reaction; my ears perk up, hearing Nick’s laughter.
“How far are you guys?” I peer at everyone’s workbooks. Ray, as usual, is deeply immersed in his work, and I doubt he even heard us come in.
Olivia, with her round glasses and pigtails, comes rushing toward me, holding her open book. “I’m almost done, look.”
“Oh wow, well done, Oli,” I encourage her, having checked her responses.
I loudly clap my hands, “OKAY! Break time, EVERYONE.” I emphasise, looking at Ray from the corner of my eye. He lets out a huff as he drops his pen onto his book and mumbles, “Fine.”
“Wow, they are really disciplined,” he remarks as he looks through the kids’ homework.
A low hum of mirth vibrates in my chest, knowing he is probably impressed by their quality of work.
I bob my head, recalling the early days. “Yeah, I’m proud of them. It wasn’t always like this, though. Some of them had their own struggles, and we had to learn how to navigate that carefully.” I look over at the kids enjoying their snacks as they joke around. “We had to ensure not to allow their struggles to define who they are, nor their strengths. Rather, see them as people who deserve to be valued.”
I pause for a second before adding, “A little advice: if you genuinely want to help them, take the time to get to know them. What works for one might not work for another.”
“Noted.” I silently study him as he seems to be in deep thought. I really hope he won’t add to the pain the kids have experienced.
“Alright, we should get the kids back to work in about five minutes.” I clap my hands together with the intention to bring him back to reality after angling my wrist to check the time on my navy-blue watch.
“Okay, let’s finish up now and get back to work!”
Sighs and annoyed groans fill the room as they clear up their plates and clean up after themselves. Knowing the routine, they beeline to the kitchen, and I follow closely behind in case anyone needs my help with anything. Packing the last of what was left, I head back to where the kids are. Nick has grabbed the attention of quite a few of the kids, as their cackles reach my ears. A small smile reaches my lips; they must be warming up towards him. However, he seems a bit hesitant while interacting with them, probably on edge, hoping not to make a mistake.
I linger on the scene a little longer than intended, so I find something to keep me busy.
My phone bings—tiredly removing it from my black puffer jacket’s pocket and unlocking it. I swipe down the screen to see Arya as texted.
“Damsel” flashes—the name I’d given Arya after her dramatic “collapse” during the church talent show. Her sandal had snapped mid-performance, and she’d grabbed my arm with a whispered, “Don’t let me fall before the altar!” The nickname stuck.
It meant more when Arya found me behind the church that night after Mom’s latest outburst. No scripture-quoting, no lectures. Just her pressing a cold Fanta into my hand and saying, “Newsflash, hero—even Elijah needed an angel to bring him bread.”
Some friendships are like prayer—you don’t always need words to feel heard.
Damsel: Hey, babes! You good? I’m sending you some study notes, in case you might need them – you mentioned getting home late
A soft smile graces my lips as I read the message, warmed by her gesture. Remembering, I notified her that I would be staying at the orphanage later than usual during our quick call earlier. Not a few seconds later, my phone bings, displaying that a document has been sent.
Me: Heyyy! Awww, thank you so much, xxx. Truly appreciate you.
Feeling exhausted, won’t lie. We just finished with the kids and got to settle them in a bit. How about you?
BTW! I’ve got news for you…
Damsel: Don’t sweat it, xxx
Wait…” we?” I thought you said Anne was gone, so you’d be alone.
Ouff, when you get home, try to sleep earlier than usual. Girl, you’ll need it. Remember, tomorrow’s class is at 8 am.
Me: Girlllll! I’m here with Nick.
Ugh, don’t remind me. I’ll freshen up, read through the notes and sleeeep. Hopefully, I hear my alarm ring.
Damsel: Wait, Nick…like Nick from earlier today? As in Justin’s Nick?
LOL, babes, you better pray you wake up on time.
Me: YEAH, him. I was shocked too. I would have never expected him to be the new volunteer.
Will do, lol xxx. Can’t have you waiting for me.
“Hey, are you good?” A bit startled by Nick’s presence, my chin drops in a silent ‘yes’ while I place my phone upside down on the table.
“Yeah, I’m good and you?”
“Exhausted,” he says, stretching out his arms as he offers me a lazy smile.”Are the kids usually this energetic?”
I stifle a laugh, glancing at the kids. They have finished their work and are now gathered together, playing various board games. “This? You have hardly seen anything then.”
I can’t contain my laughter anymore, as he swallows hard at my words.
“Wait, are you serious, serious?”
“Well, yes and no. It does vary; some days are not like others, I’ve learnt to read their moods. However, they are a joyful bunch in general, and I thank God for that, honestly.” I dramatically lift my hands in thanksgiving. “By the way, is this your first time?”
“First time volunteering?” He shakes his head. “Nope. I was committed to one before this one for a couple of years.”
I tilt my head slightly, studying him with new curiosity. Committed for years? There’s more to him than I thought. Yet, a thought comes to mind, how was he able to leave them behind and move to another so easily—was it simply work for him, or maybe some things came up?
“You are probably wondering why I left?” He asks, as if he had some telepathy superpower.
I shrug, but my eyes stay locked on his. “The thought did cross my mind.”
He leans back, arms folding. For a second, I think he’ll shut down—then he huffs a laugh. “Let’s just say the new director and I had…creative differences.” His tone is light, but his jaw tightens almost imperceptibly.
The way his fingers tap against the table tells me it’s not a topic he’s eager to dive into.
“So, does this make you a professional volunteer? Should I be taking notes?” Grinning, I grab my phone like I’m ready to document his wisdom.
Nick playfully rolls his eyes at me, the corners crinkling. I assume he catches my deflection, but he plays along. “I guess so then,” he responds after a brief pause, nodding thoughtfully to himself as if agreeing with an invisible philosopher.
“Miss Lockheart! Maya cheated—again!”
Before a word comes out of my mouth, a crash echoes from the corner—two boys wrestling over a fallen Jenga tower. Nick moves before I do, his long strides eating up the distance as he crouches between them.
“Ah-ah,” he chides, voice warm but firm. “What do we do when the blocks fall?”
The boys grumble but start rebuilding. I watch, surprised, as Nick steadies the base with steady hands—then guides them into a handshake. Priya hasn’t moved since yelling out about Maya, her fists clenched at her sides, her bottom lip trembling. I don’t hesitate to stoop to her eye level.
Priya jabs a playful finger at Maya, who’s innocently stacking UNO cards. “She hid a Draw Four under her leg! Again!”
I bite back a smile, not shocked by Maya’s antics. “Maya,” I say, raising an eyebrow. “Is there a Draw Four missing from the deck?”
Maya’s eyes dart sideways. “… No?”
“Liar!” Priya screeches.
“Okay, but we don’t need to scream, right?”
“Need backup, Miss Lockheart?” Nick calls out to me.
I turn back to the girls, plucking the rogue card from under Maya’s knee. “Nice try. Hand over two more as punishment.” Maya groans but obeys, while Priya beams as if I’ve just served justice.
“Nah. I’ve got a system.” I fan out Maya’s cards. “Cheaters lose their best card to the person they wronged. Fair?”
Priya snatches Maya’s Wild Card with a triumphant “Ha!” while Maya pouts, stamping her foot in mock protest.
Nick shakes his head, his lips curving. “Brutal. I like it.”
“Told you,” I say when he returns. “They’re hurricanes.”
His grin flashes, tired but genuine. “Good thing I like adventure.”
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© 2026 Emmanuelle Ngoie. All rights reserved. The Crying Girl is an original work. No part of this work may be copied, reproduced, or distributed without permission.
