8. A quiet dinner.

"Did you manage to sell your car, Amanda?" Pamela looked towards the courtyard, and she still found her youngest daughter's car there. "What is it?"

Amanda smiled wryly. She had hoped that when she got home from work, her mother would greet her and ask how the day was going, but she got a question that made her take a deep breath every time she was at home—Amanda's patience was always being played with.

"I'm still using it, Mom." She passed Pamela in the doorway and went to the kitchen, cold water being something Amanda wanted to consume. The summer weather tickled her throat.

"So, when are you going to sell it? Nadine gave the debt collector one week." Pamela followed her daughter into the kitchen.

"Soon, Mom. In less than a week, my car will be sold. Stay calm."

"Are you sure?" She doubted it.

Amanda nodded. "I'll change my clothes first before cooking dinner."

"Do it."

After changing her clothes, Amanda tied her hair up high and put on her apron. The tiredness after work was no big