“Friend? How?”
Mama Efuna’s voice trembled.
“Many years ago, when I was young and poor, I worked as a house help. Ada was the daughter of the house. She was kind. Gentle. When trouble came, she helped me.”
Adawale’s hands clenched.
“And what happened to her?”
Mama Efuna turned her face toward the window.
“She disappeared,” she said. “One night. I never saw her again.”
The floor seemed to shift beneath Adawale’s feet.
Ada was his sister.
She had vanished twenty-five years ago, and the case had never been solved.
He forced his voice to stay calm.
“Did she give you anything before she disappeared?”
Mama Efuna nodded slowly.
“Yes. A necklace. She said if life ever broke me, I should show it to someone who knew her.”
Adawale’s chest tightened.
“Where is the necklace?”
Mama Efuna shook her head sadly.
“I lost it. When I ran away from that house, I was afraid.”
Adawale closed his eyes.
Even so, something burned inside him.
This woman knew his sister. And now she had been kicked into the street by her own son.
The world suddenly felt upside down.
At Chinedu’s house, Vanessa sat on the couch scrolling through her phone.
“Look at this,” she laughed. “Someone recorded the drama today. Your mother is trending.”
Chinedu snatched the phone from her.
The video showed Mama Efuna on the ground.
His kick.
Her fall.
The Bible in the dust.
His stomach twisted.
“Delete it,” he snapped.
“I can’t,” Vanessa said with a shrug. “It’s already everywhere.”
Chinedu stood and began pacing the room.
“What if something happens to her?” he muttered.
Vanessa rolled her eyes.
“Please. She is strong. Poor people are always strong.”
Then there was a knock at the door.
Chinedu opened it. A neighbor stood there with folded arms.
“Your mother collapsed,” the man said coldly. “A stranger took her.”
Chinedu froze.
“Took her where?”
“We don’t know. But everyone saw what you did.”
The man turned and walked away.
Chinedu’s heart pounded.
“What if she dies?” he whispered.
Vanessa scoffed.
“Then life goes on. Stop being weak.”
But Chinedu could not sleep that night.
For the first time, his dreams were full of dust, falling bodies, and his mother’s eyes looking at him like he was no longer her son.
Back at the hospital, morning light filled the room.
Adawale sat beside Mama Efuna holding a file. Inside were old documents and faded photographs. One picture slipped out.
Mama Efuna stared at it.
“That’s her,” she whispered. “Ada.”
Adawale watched her face closely.
Tears ran down her cheeks.
“She was good,” Mama Efuna said. “She said kindness would return one day.”
Adawale nodded slowly.
“Maybe that day has come.”
Mama looked at him in confusion.
“What do you mean?”
Adawale closed the file.
“Rest first. When you are stronger, we will talk.”
As he stood to leave, Mama Efuna grabbed his hand.
“Please,” she said softly. “I have nowhere to go.”
Adawale looked down at her.
“You will not go back to the street. I promise.”
Her lips trembled.
“Why are you helping me?”
His eyes were serious.
“Because your life is tied to a story much bigger than you know.”
He turned and walked out.
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