The smell in the back store was not good. It was the kind of smell you get when food has stayed too long. Cold rice, fried chicken bone, old stew. The yellow cleaning light on the ceiling was weak and the floor was wet from fresh mopping. And that was where Adam saw her.

Madame Evelyn, she did not know he was standing there. The old woman was on the floor in front of the big black trash bin. Her uniform was dirty. Her gray hair was loose and rough like she had been crying and using her hands to wipe her face. She held one hand inside the trash bin, searching fast, shaking like someone afraid of being caught.

Then Adam watched her pull out half a piece of fried meat, wipe it on her apron, and put it in her mouth. Her eyes were already wet with tears while she chewed. Adam felt something hit his chest. “No, no, this cannot be real. This is my building,” he thought. This is my restaurant. This is my staff.

How is my staff eating from the trash? He didn’t even know when his voice came out. Madame Evelyn. She froze. The meat slipped from her hand and fell to the wet floor. For one full second, she did not move. Her body shook. Then she turned and when she saw who it was, her whole face changed.

Her eyes opened wide in fear. She tried to stand up fast, but she slipped and almost fell again. Sir, sir, please,” she said in a small voice. “Please, I’m sorry. Don’t sack me. Please, I beg you.” Then she did something that broke him. She dropped to her knees on the wet floor and held her hands together like a child begging. Adam stood there and could not speak.

“This woman is 67 years old,” he thought. “She is old enough to be my mother, and she is on her knees in a dirty store, begging me not to fire her because she is hungry. Something inside him went weak. He walked closer to her and his own eyes started to shine. “Stand up,” he said softly. “Please, please stand up.

” But she shook her head fast. “Please don’t sack me,” she cried. “Please, I will not do it again. I was just I was just I was hungry. I did not want to steal food from the kitchen. I did not want to collect food without paying. So, I said, “Let me let me.” Her voice broke. Let me check what is left in the bin. Please don’t sack me.

I need this job. Adam Nelt, the billionaire CEO of Eden Royale Group, the most expensive fine dining restaurant in Victoria Island, Lagos, dropped on his knees on a wet store floor in front of his janitor. Tears rolled down his face. “Don’t do that,” he said to her. His voice was shaking now. “Please stand.

You didn’t do anything wrong.” She looked up at him, confused. She was still breathing fast. “Sir, you didn’t do anything wrong,” Adam said. “I am the one who should be sorry.” Her lips trembled. She didn’t understand it. Adam took her hand to help her stand. Her hand felt cold. Too cold. That was the moment everything changed. 9 hours earlier, the restaurant had been bright and full of life.

Eden Royale was made of high glass and marble, gold lights, white tablecloth, wine shelves from wall to- wall, soft piano music. It was the kind of place rich men used to propose to their girlfriends. It was the kind of place Instagram girls like to post and write. Soft life only. But Adam did not start rich. People only saw the last part of his story. They saw the designer suit.

They saw the black G Wagon outside. They saw the way the chefs greeted him with, “Good evening, sir.” What they did not see was the boy he used to be. Adam lost both his parents at 13. A stranger who worked in a church kitchen let him sleep in a store room and fed him leftover bread and fish stew at night when no one was looking.

He grew up knowing the taste of hunger, the kind that makes your stomach hurt so much you feel like you cannot stand. That night, the dining hall had already closed. The last couple had left. All the guests were gone. Most of the workers had signed out. The only people still in the building were kitchen staff doing final cleanup, security, and one janitor. Her, Madame Evelyn. She had been with them for only 3 weeks.

Quiet woman came before sunrise, swept the outside tiles, cleaned the toilets without one word of complaint. She always greeted people with, “Good morning, my child.” No matter how old the person was, and she never ate staff food. Some staff would collect small takeaway at the end of the night. Nobody would complain. Even Adam allowed it.

But she always said, “No, I am fine.” Then she would smile and continue mopping. They thought maybe she was shy. They did not know that she was starving. Adam almost didn’t come back inside that night. He had already told his driver to warm the car. He had his keys in his hand. He could have gone home, but he stopped. Something in him said, “Check the back store.

” He didn’t know why. He just went. That was how he saw her at the bin on the floor eating from trash on her knees begging. Back in the store. Now Adam was still holding her hand. Ma, he said. His voice was soft and careful like he didn’t want to hurt her more. Talk to me. Please tell me what is going on. Her face folded.

It was like her body had been trying to carry a heavy secret for a long time. And now the weight was too much and it had to fall. My son is dead. She whispered. Adam swallowed. She took a breath. Like each word she said was fire in her chest. My only child, my boy, my doctor. Her lips shook. He used to call me every night.

He always said, “Mama, don’t worry. I will take you out of this life. I will buy you a small place. You will rest.” He was on his way to come see me 5 years ago. They called me and said the bus crashed before Benin. He didn’t make it. Her voice cracked. Adam felt his own jaw lock. I could not pay rent after that. She said, “People in my street told me I killed him.

” They called me which. They said, “How will a mother still be alive when her only child died like that?” They told my landlord. My landlord said I should carry my load and leave his house because he does not want a witch in his compound. Adam shut his eyes. I sleep under bridge, she said by the pillar. I hide when boys are shouting and smoking. I hold my bag tight when I sleep because they can steal it.

I walk from there to this place every morning. I said let me work. I said let me start again. I said maybe this month when salary comes I can buy small food and find a small room to rest my head. It’s ill. She wiped her face with the back of her hand. Her hand was still shaking. Then she said, “The part that broke him in half.” “Sir, today I was shaking. I could not stand.

I did not eat since yesterday morning. I cleaned the toilet and I was seeing light in my eyes.” I did not want to steal food from the kitchen. So I said, “Let me check the bin. Maybe chicken bone is still there. Please don’t sack me. I promise I will not be weak again.” Adam felt his throat burn. He actually felt pain. He held her two hands.

Now listen to me, he said. And his own voice was not steady anymore. Nobody is sacking you. Nobody is punishing you. You didn’t fail me. I failed you. Her eyes lifted. She could not believe what she was hearing from today. Adam said, breathing hard. You are not sleeping under any bridge again. You are coming with me. Do you hear me? You are coming home with me.

She stared at him like he was joking. Sir, what do you mean home? My home? Adam said, “My house. You are not my janitor anymore.” She shook her head, confused. “I don’t understand.” Adam swallowed, wiped his face, and said the words that made the air in that small, dirty store feel holy. “You are my mother now.” For a long time, nobody moved. Even the fridge hum felt quiet. She covered her mouth with both hands.

Tears ran down her face so fast they dropped from her chin to the floor. “Sir, please,” she whispered. “Don’t play with me. I’m not playing, Adam said. I grew up with no parents. I know what it means to have nobody. I will never watch you eat from a trash bin in my building. Never. He stood up, helped her to stand again, and wrapped his arm around her like a son. “Come,” he said. “We’re going.

” Right then, one of the junior chefs opened the store door to drop a crate and saw them. He looked confused. His eyes jumped from Adam’s arm around her shoulders to her wet face to the tears on Adam’s own face. “Sir, is everything okay?” Adam turned his head slowly. His face was calm now. His voice was not shaking anymore. “Call all staff still on duty,” he said.

“Right now, I have an announcement.” The chef blinked, surprised at the tone. “Yes, sir.” In less than 2 minutes, four staff members stood in the hallway. two chefs, one waiter, and the security guard. They all looked tired. It was past closing time. But Adam’s face told them this was serious.

Adam stepped forward with Madame Evelyn beside him. I want every single person in this company to hear this, he said. From tonight, this woman is not the janitor anymore. They all looked at her. She looked at the floor. This woman is my mother, Adam said. The waiter’s eyes went wide. The security guard’s mouth opened a little.

If I ever hear, Adam continued, his voice low and sharp now that anybody disrespected her, shouted at her, or left her hungry in this building. He paused, his jaw got tight. You will not work here again. Do you understand me? Yes, sir. The staff said quietly. Adam nodded once. He turned back to Madame Eivelyn. Let’s go home, mama, he whispered.

Her legs almost gave out right there in the hallway in front of everyone. The old woman began to cry in a way that sounded like years of pain were finally breaking open. But as Adam held her, helping her walk toward the exit, something else started moving in the shadows of the restaurant.

Something he did not see yet because not everybody in that building was happy that the janitor just became madam and someone had already picked up their phone to make a call. The ride home was quiet. Madame Evelyn sat in the backseat of Adam’s black Gwagon, her hands clasped on her lap, trembling. She had never sat in a car like that before. Soft leather, cool air, quiet music playing low.

Every time the car stopped at a traffic light, she looked out through the tinted glass at the sleeping city. Lagos was glowing in the night street lights. Suya stands, Danfo buses still shouting. It didn’t feel real. Adam sat beside her, eyes fixed on the road ahead. He wasn’t thinking about work, profit, or contracts. His mind kept going back to that store room to the moment he saw her holding trash food with tears in her eyes. He could still hear her words. I sleep under bridge.

That sentence had carved itself into his heart. He looked at her again. She was old, tired, yet she carried a calm grace that refused to die. Madame Evelyn, he began softly. She looked at him quickly, as if afraid he was about to change his mind. He smiled faintly. “You can rest now,” he said. “No one will ever call you witch again.” Her lips quivered.

“Sir, you don’t know how sweet that word sounds. Nobody has ever said it to me in years.” She turned her face away, but Adam noticed the tears quietly sliding down her cheeks. They reached Adam’s mansion in Ecoy close to midnight. The gates opened slowly as the security men saluted, confused at the sight of their boss stepping out of the car with an elderly woman in a janitor’s uniform.

Adam didn’t explain. He just said, “Prepare the guest room beside mine.” He walked her into the house himself, past the marble floors, chandeliers, and glass stairs. Madame Evelyn stopped several times to stare around, whispering to herself, “God, what kind of place is this?” When they entered the guest room, her breath caught. It was more beautiful than any house she had ever seen.

Cream curtains, white sheets, a flower vase by the window. She stood frozen. From today, Adam said quietly. This is your room. You will rest here, eat here, and live here. Her mouth opened. Sir, I don’t deserve this. Adam smiled. You deserve more than this, Mama. Please stop calling me sir. Call me Adam or my son. She covered her mouth with both hands, whispering, my son.

As tears rolled freely again, the next morning, the whole staff at Eden Royale received a memo. Subject: Madame Evelyn is now a respected family member of the CEO. Treat her accordingly. Some staff read it and smiled. Others whispered behind doors, family member of a billionaire. One of the waitresses scoffed. That woman looks like she can’t even afford soap.

How can she be his mother? Keep quiet, the security guard warned. Do you want to lose your job? But gossip spreads faster than truth in Lagos. By the afternoon, even neighboring restaurants were talking about it. That billionaire way, get Eden Royale, Don Carry cleaner go house. Adam didn’t care.

He had bigger things to worry about, like finding out what exactly she had been through all these years. That evening, Madame Evelyn sat on a couch in the mansion’s living room. Dressed in a clean floral gown that the housekeeper bought for her. She looked refreshed, but her eyes carried the kind of sadness that doesn’t wash off in one bath. Adam joined her with two cups of tea.

“I told the driver to get you pepper soup,” he said with a small smile. She chuckled softly. “Ah, my son, you want to spoil me? Oh, he smiled, too. You deserve it, but I need you to tell me something.” She nodded. Those people who called you a witch, who were they? Her smile faded. My neighbors, she said slowly. When my son died, they came to the burial.

They said I must have eaten him spiritually because I was jealous of his success. One woman even told me to confess before thunder strikes me. Her voice grew shaky. I stopped going to church because people stared. The pastor told me I needed deliverance. I stopped talking to anyone. Then my landlord chased me out. Adam clenched his fists.

That’s wickedness. Pure wickedness, Madame Evelyn sighed. I cried until my tears finished. Then I told God that one day someone will see me not as a witch but as a human being. Evelyn, she looked up and smiled faintly. “And he sent you.” Adam felt his throat tighten again. “No,” he whispered. “Maybe he sent you to remind me what kindness really means.” Days turned into weeks.

Evelyn became part of the house like she had always been there. She prayed for Adam every morning before he went to work, cooked light soup on weekends and sometimes sat outside the balcony watering the plants. Neighbors began to notice the old woman in the billionaire’s compound. Some whispered, some laughed.

One even said, “That’s the witch controlling his success.” Adam heard about it, but every time he smiled and said, “If loving someone like her is witchcraft, then I want to be bewitched forever.” Two months later, something strange happened. Adam’s company, which had been struggling to win a huge government catering contract for over a year, suddenly got a call.

They were chosen not only for the catering deal, but also for supplying food to several hotels across Abuja and Port Harkort. It was worth hundreds of millions. When Adam got home that night, he found Evelyn on the ver reading her small Bible. He rushed to her almost shouting, “Mama, you won’t believe this.

” He told her everything, excitement spilling out of his words. When he finished, she only smiled calm and sure. “My son,” she said gently, “I told you, God rewards those who show mercy. When you picked me up from that floor, you didn’t just feed me. You fed an angel unaware.” Adam laughed, shaking his head.

Mama, you’re giving God too much credit. She smiled deeper. You’ll see. This is just the beginning. But behind that joy, something else was building. One of Adam’s senior managers, Mr. Collins, had been eyeing the CEO position for years. He believed Adam’s success came from favoritism and luck. When he heard that the witch janitor, was now living in the mansion, he saw an opportunity.

At a board meeting, he whispered to another executive, “Watch that old woman. She’s using charms on him. That’s why deals are falling from heaven.” The rumor spread quietly. By the next month, even a journalist caught the story and published it online. Billionaire Adam Okoro’s strange obsession with which janitor raises questions. When Adam saw it, his heart sank. He shut the laptop and sighed.

Madame Evelyn saw the pain in his face that night and asked softly, “What is it, my son?” He hesitated, then showed her the article. She read it slowly. Then she smiled a sad, tired smile. “I told you this world never changes fast. People always fear what they don’t understand.” Adam looked at her. But it’s hurting my name, mama. She reached out and touched his hand. Let them talk.

When truth is silent, lies make noise for a while. But truth always wins in the end. He looked at her and something in his chest calmed. That night before sleeping, he stood outside her door and whispered, “Good night, mama.” Inside, Evelyn smiled. She whispered back, “Good night, my son.

” But as the lights went off and the mansion fell silent, a storm was already brewing, one that would test everything Adam believed about love, loyalty, and faith. And when it struck, it would break hearts in ways no one saw coming. Morning sunlight poured through the tall windows of Adam’s living room. The sound of gospel music played softly from a nearby speaker.

Madame Evelyn hummed along as she arranged flowers in a vase red hibiscus, her favorite. It had been 4 months since that night in the store. The woman who once ate from the trash now walked with quiet dignity. The staff at Eden Royale now called her Mama Evelyn, and even customers noticed how her smile lit up the restaurant whenever she stopped by.

But behind Adam’s calm success, there was something missing. Loneliness. He had everything. Wealth, cars, a mansion, fame. But when he came home, silence greeted him. Sometimes he would see Mama Evelyn reading her Bible and smile. But when she went to bed, the emptiness returned. Until one afternoon, it was a business lunchon at Zenith Bank headquarters in Victoria Island.

Adam was there to finalize a catering partnership with the bank’s top executives. The room was filled with serious men in suits and elegant women in pencil skirts. And that was when she walked in. Bonita, a banker, mid-20s, tall, dark, and graceful, with kind eyes that seemed to notice more than people said. Her smile wasn’t loud. It was warm, like sunrise after rain. She introduced herself politely. Good afternoon, Mr. Adam.

I’m Bonita Okafor, assistant branch manager. Adam stood up to shake her hand and something in that small touch made time slow down. Her hand was soft, firm, confident. Throughout the meeting, Adam found himself distracted. She spoke clearly and intelligently, and when she laughed, it sounded like something he had been missing for years.

After the meeting, as everyone exchanged contacts, Bonita smiled and said, “You should come by for coffee sometime, Mr. Adam.” Off duty, of course. He smiled. Only if you promise not to make me discuss business. She laughed. Deal. Two weeks later, they met at a quiet cafe in Leki. Adam wore a simple white shirt.

Bonita wore a blue gown with gold earrings. They talked for hours about childhood dreams and even pain. When she told him about losing her father at 16, he listened in silence. When he told her about being an orphan, she reached across the table and touched his hand gently. You have a kind soul,” she said softly.

“The world needs more people like you.” That touch stayed in his mind long after the evening ended. By the third week, Adam brought her home. The moment Bonita stepped into the mansion, the air changed. She looked around politely, but her attention quickly went to the elderly woman arranging fruit in the dining room. “Good evening, Ma.

” Bonita greeted, smiling warmly. Madame Evelyn turned, smiled back, and said, “Ah, good evening, my daughter. You must be Bonita. My son talks about you often.” Adam blinked. “Mama.” Bonita laughed, her cheeks turning red. “He does?” Evelyn nodded proudly. “Every day.” I knew this must be the woman behind that smile I keep seeing lately. They all laughed, and that was how it began.

From that day, Bonita and Mama Evelyn became close. Whenever Bonita visited, she went straight to the kitchen to help Mama prepare food. They talked, laughed, and shared stories. Sometimes they sat in the garden together while Adam joined them with fruit juice in hand.

It felt like family, something Adam had never truly known. Even the staff noticed how lively the house had become. The laughter, the aroma of food, the sound of gospel music mixed with love songs playing from the living room speaker. One evening, Adam walked in to find Bonita massaging Mama Eivelyn’s shoulders while they both watched a movie. “Ah, my son,” Mama said, smiling.

“This girl is golden. If you delay too long, another man will steal her.” Bonita laughed shily and hid her face. Adam chuckled, sitting beside them. “Don’t worry, mama. I won’t delay.” Weeks later, Adam planned something special. He rented the Garden of Eden Royale, his first restaurant branch, the same place his dreams had started. It was decorated with white liies, candles, and fairy lights.

Bonita thought it was just a dinner. When she arrived, she saw the table set beautifully, soft music playing, and Adam standing there in a black suit. She smiled. “You didn’t tell me this was a surprise dinner.” Adam took a deep breath. “It’s more than that, he dropped to one knee.” Bonita Okafur, he said, voice trembling slightly. You came into my life and gave me peace. I didn’t know I was missing. You showed me love that money can’t buy.

Please, will you marry me? Bonita’s hands covered her mouth. Tears filled her eyes. Adam, she whispered. Yes, yes, I’ll marry you. Applause burst from the hidden waiters and staff who had been waiting nearby. Fireworks lit the sky above. Adam slipped a ring on her finger.

And as he stood, Bonita threw her arms around him, whispering through tears. “You have no idea how much I prayed for this.” From a distance, Mama Eivelyn watched them with joy. Tears rolled down her face as she whispered, “Thank you, Lord. I can rest now.” The wedding preparations began almost immediately. Invitations printed. Venue booked.

Mama Evelyn was at the center of everything, choosing colors, advising the planners, and saying proudly to everyone, “That’s my son. That’s my daughter.” For the first time in years, Adam’s mansion was full of laughter and hope. But life has a way of testing happiness. 2 days to the wedding, Bonita left early for work.

She promised to return before nightfall to finalize plans with Mama Evelyn. Adam waved at her from the gate. “Drive safely, my love.” She smiled back. I will. It was a bright morning. The sky was clear. Everything looked perfect until 3:17 p.m. Adam’s phone rang. Unknown number. Hello. Are you Mr. Adam Aoro? Yes. Speaking. This is the Lagos State Emergency Response.

We’re sorry, sir, but the lady driving a silver Toyota Corolla with plate number KSF 829 BT. She’s been involved in an accident. Adam’s breath stopped. What? She’s being rushed to Street Nicholas Hospital. Please come immediately. The phone nearly fell from his hand. His driver saw his face and shouted, “Ogreeting happen?” Adam didn’t answer. He just said one word, “Drive.

” When he reached the hospital, the smell of antiseptic hit him like a wave. Nurses were rushing. Patients were crying. His eyes searched everywhere until he saw a doctor walking toward him slowly, face pale. “Sir, you’re Mr. Adam. Yes. Where’s Bonita? The doctor’s lips trembled. I’m sorry. She didn’t make it. Adam’s legs gave way. He fell to his knees in the hallway, his hand pressed to his chest. He couldn’t breathe.

He couldn’t cry. The world went silent. Mama Evelyn arrived minutes later, panting, her wrapper loose, tears already running down her face. When she saw Adam on the floor, she understood. She ran to him, knelt, and held him tight. “My son, my son.” Adam shook his head. “Why, mama? Why now? We were supposed to marry in 2 days.

Why?” She cried with him. They stayed there on the cold hospital floor. One man broken. One woman reliving her own loss through him. As she held his trembling body, her mind whispered the same words she had spoken years ago at her son’s funeral. “God, why do you take the good ones?” That night when Adam finally slept from exhaustion, Evelyn sat beside his bed praying silently. God, she said softly. Give him strength.

Don’t let this pain destroy him. But in the dark corners of Lagos, tongues had already started moving. People whispered again. First her son died. Now the woman his new mother lives with lost his fianceé, too. That old woman is bad luck. And this time, those whispers were about to reach Adam’s ears. The days after Bonita’s death felt like a dream Adam could not wake up from.

The mansion that once echoed with laughter was now filled with silence. Curtains stayed closed. The air smelled faintly of roses, the same flowers Bonita had chosen for their wedding. Her bridal gowns still hung in the guest room, untouched. Every night, Adam would sit in the living room, staring at her pictures on his phone.

her smile, her laugh, her messages. Sometimes he played her voice notes over and over until his battery died. He had buried his heart with her. Madame Evelyn tried to comfort him, but every time she opened her mouth, he only nodded weakly or walked away. He wasn’t angry at her, just broken. But outside those walls, something dark was spreading. It started small.

A neighbor whispered to another, “Have you heard that billionaire’s fianceé died just like that? You know that old woman staying with him? They said her son died the same way years ago. Ah, are you serious? Yes. Oh, they said she’s a witch. Wherever she goes, death follows. By evening, the rumor had traveled across the estate. Within days, even online blogs carried headlines. Tragedy strikes again. The cursed janitor behind another death.

People love stories that taste like gossip and grief. Even some of Adam’s employees, people who once called Evelyn mama, began to avoid her. In the restaurant, when she walked into the kitchen, conversations stopped. When she smiled and greeted, no one responded. One night, she overheard two waiters whispering near the corridor.

I’m telling you, it’s true. Since that old woman entered Ogre’s life, things change. The woman we eat from dust bin, now living in mansion. The other hissed. What if she here? Their laughter felt like knives in her heart. She turned away quietly, tears forming in her eyes.

When Adam finally returned to work two weeks later, he could feel the distance in the air. People were polite but stiff. His once lively office felt heavy. He noticed Madame Evelyn wasn’t around that morning. Normally, she waited for him near the restaurant gate to greet him with her warm welcome, my son. He called his driver.

Where’s Mama? She left early, sir, the man said. said she wanted to buy something from the market. That evening, she returned late. Her eyes were red. Adam looked at her closely. Mama, what happened? She forced a smile. Nothing, my son. Just tired, but her trembling hands told a different story. He stepped closer. “Please don’t lie to me,” she sighed, sitting slowly.

“People are talking again,” she said softly. “They’re saying I killed Bonita.” Adam froze. “What?” She nodded. They say I brought death into your house. That wherever I go, tragedy follows. My son, I’m used to this kind of talk. I’ve heard it before, but I cannot bear that it’s hurting you now.

Adam clenched his fists, anger burning in his eyes. Who said that nonsense? She shook her head. It doesn’t matter. You can’t fight every tongue. He looked at her long and hard, his chest rising with emotion. Mama, listen to me carefully. I don’t care what anyone says. You are not the cause of Bonita’s death. You are not cursed.

You are my mother, and I will never turn my back on you. Her tears flowed freely. My son, he knelt before her and took her hand. Do you hear me? Never. For the first time that week, she smiled. A small broken smile, but real. That night, Adam sat in his study, thinking. He remembered the early days when the restaurant had struggled.

How Evelyn’s presence seemed to bring strange peace and blessings. He remembered her prayers every morning, the calmness she carried, the wisdom in her voice. He couldn’t understand how anyone could look at such a gentle woman and see evil. But as he leaned back in his chair, his phone buzzed. It was Mr. Collins, his operations manager.

“Sir, I just need to say this privately,” Collins said over the phone, voice low. You know, I respect you, but you need to be careful. That woman, she’s not ordinary. These things don’t just happen twice. Adam’s voice went cold. Collins, stop there, sir. I said, stop. His tone hardened. That woman you’re calling that woman is my mother. You will never talk about her like that again.

There was silence on the line. Adam ended the call, but the word stayed with him like poison. The next morning, Madame Evelyn woke up early as usual. She swept the front yard, watered the flowers, and prepared breakfast, but her hands were weak. She hadn’t been sleeping well.

When Adam came downstairs, she smiled faintly and said, “Good morning, my son.” He hugged her gently. “Good morning, mama.” But she noticed something new in his eyes. sadness, worry, fear. She decided to speak. “My son,” she said quietly. “Don’t let pain turn your heart bitter.” “Bonita’s death was not your fault, nor mine. Some things we will never understand, but life must go on.” He nodded slowly.

“I know, Mama. I just I miss her so much.” “I know.” She touched his cheek. “But you’re still breathing. And as long as you’re breathing, God isn’t done with you yet.” Her words soothed him. But deep down she felt something else, something she didn’t say.

A heaviness in her chest, a tiredness she couldn’t explain. Later that week, Adam got invited to a leadership conference in Abuja. It would be a 3-day event, his first major appearance since the tragedy. He hesitated, but Evelyn encouraged him. Go, my son. It will help you heal. Meet new people. Start again. He smiled softly. I’ll go only if you promise to rest while I’m away. I promise, she said. He left the next morning. The conference went well.

Adam spoke about resilience, leadership, and hope. He even smiled genuinely for the first time in months. Among the audience was a woman who caught his eye. Tall, confident, gentle smile. Her name was Jessica, a marketing consultant. They exchanged contacts after the event, nothing more. But she reminded him of what peace used to feel like.

He quickly called Mama and told her about Jessica and said he hopes they end up being together. When he returned to Lagos, he rushed home to tell Evelyn more about Jessica, how the conference went, how proud she would have been, but something was wrong. He noticed the house was too quiet. The lights were dim.

“Mama,” he called. No answer. He climbed the stairs and pushed open her door. Madame Evelyn was lying on her bed, her Bible opened beside her, her hands folded neatly on her chest. “Mama,” he whispered. “She didn’t move.” He touched her arm cold. “No, no, no, no, no,” he gasped, shaking her gently. “Mama, wake up, please. Please.

” Her face was peaceful, like someone sleeping after a long journey. On the bedside table lay a folded note. Adam opened it with trembling hands. My dear Adam, I am feeling uneasy this night. I prayed I would see mourning. But if I don’t make it, please go ahead with your life. That is what will make me happy.

Thank you for giving me a second chance to live with dignity. You were a son to me when I had none left. Take care of Jessica. Be kind to her. Treat her well like you treated me. God be with you always. Madame Evelyn. Adam sank to his knees beside her bed, holding the note close to his chest as tears streamed down his face.

“Mama,” he whispered. “You promised to rest, not to leave.” Downstairs, the house remained silent. Only the sound of the clock ticking filled the air. The same sound that once echoed the start of their bond in that restaurant store, but now it marked its end, and as Adam sat on the floor beside her lifeless body, grief swallowing him again.

One thought cut through his sorrow like a knife. the world will talk again. And this time, he wasn’t sure he had the strength to defend her anymore. The morning after Madame Evelyn’s death felt like Lagos itself had gone silent. No car horns, no laughter, just the heavy hum of sorrow hanging in Adam’s mansion.

The sun rose quietly through the curtains, touching her room with a soft glow. But she was gone. Her bed was neatly made, her prayer book still open to her favorite portion. Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life. Adam sat there for hours holding her cold hand, unable to let go. He didn’t care about the business calls, the messages, or the people knocking at his gate.

The woman who had become his mother, who had once been found eating from a trash bin, was now lying still, free from hunger and pain. He wept until no tears were left. By noon, word had spread. The staff from Eden Royale gathered outside his gate. whispering in disbelief. Some genuinely mourned, others only came to confirm the rumor that the witch janitor had died. “Mr.

Collins stood among them, his face unreadable.” “You see,” he muttered to another supervisor. “I said it, she’s gone, but not before she finished her mission. Two deaths in that man’s life, his fiance, and now her own death in his house. Mark my words, that old woman was never ordinary.” A waiter nearby frowned. Ogre Collins. That’s not fair. She was kind to everyone.

Collins smirked. Kind. My friend, don’t be fooled. The devil wears white sometimes. He didn’t notice that Adam was standing right behind him. The entire group froze as the CEO’s voice cut through the air like thunder. “Anyone who utters one more word against that woman,” Adam said coldly.

“We’ll never step into my company again,” Collins stammered. Sir, I didn’t mean get out, Adam said, his tone sharp and final. You’re fired. The crowd went dead silent. Adam turned to the others, his eyes red and heavy. She was not a witch. She was a mother, the only mother I ever had.

If any of you truly believe she brought death into my life, then you never understood what it means to love. No one replied. Some bowed their heads in shame. The funeral took place 3 days later in a quiet cemetery in Ecoy. There were no cameras, no press, no crowd, just Adam, a few loyal workers, and the priest. The air was soft with drizzle. The earth smelled of rain and flowers.

As they lowered the casket, Adam could barely breathe. He felt like he was burying the last piece of peace in his life. He looked up at the gray sky and whispered, “You said I should move on, mama. But how do I move on when the world feels empty without you? The priest’s voice echoed softly, for dust thou art, and unto dust shalt thou return. When the first shovel of sand fell on the coffin, Adams knees gave way.

He fell, trembling, pressing his palms into the wet earth. She was the best part of me, he cried. She gave me everything. A gentle hand touched his shoulder. It was Jessica, the woman he had met at the Abuja conference. She had flown down the moment she heard. She knelt beside him, holding an umbrella over both of them. “I’m so sorry,” she whispered. “She told me about you when we met at the conference reception.

She said you were the son she prayed for.” Adam blinked through his tears. “You met her?” Jessica nodded briefly. “She called me her daughter already.” That simple truth broke him. He leaned against her shoulder, crying silently as rain washed the dust from his hands. After the burial, Adam stayed away from everyone for a while.

He closed his office, cancelled meetings, and shut down the restaurant for 2 weeks. The media called it morning. But to him, it felt like his world had lost color. Until one night, he found himself in the same store room where he had first seen Madame Evelyn. The same weak bulb flickered overhead. The same trash bin stood in the corner, but it was clean now.

He knelt where she once knelt. The memory flooded back her trembling voice, her tears, his promise, he whispered. “I did what I could, mama. I kept my promise. I made sure you never begged again.” Then he noticed something shiny under the shelf. A small old locket. He picked it up, opened it, and gasped. Inside was a tiny photo, faded, but clear enough.

It was Evelyn in her youth, smiling and holding a little boy. On the back in small handwriting were the words, “My only treasure, Michael, my son forever. Marbby and schooled.” Adams eyes filled again. He pressed the locket to his chest and whispered, “You found another son, mama, and I found the mother I never had.” 2 months later, life slowly returned to Eden Royale. The restaurant reopened.

Customers returned. Staff worked with quiet respect. But something had changed forever. Near the front entrance, Adam placed a small plaque on the wall. It read in memory of Madame Evelyn, the woman who fed angels. Every new worker was told her story. How she went from the streets to the mansion. How she prayed for the man who helped her.

How she changed his life. And though the world had once called her a witch, she left behind miracles money could never buy. One evening, Jessica visited the mansion again. She found Adam sitting in the garden staring at the sunset. She sat beside him quietly. “You’ve been distant,” she said gently. He nodded.

“It’s hard to let go. Every time I think I’m okay. I hear her voice.” Jessica smiled softly. “Maybe that’s not a bad thing. Sometimes love doesn’t leave it, just changes form.” He looked at her curious. She continued, “When you found her that night eating from the trash, it wasn’t an accident.

Maybe God used her to fill the hole your mother’s death left. Maybe he sent you to fill hers, and now she’s done what she came to do. She left peace in your heart. Her words hung in the air like a calm breeze. Adam looked up at the sky where the first stars were appearing. You sound like her, he said quietly. Jessica smiled. Maybe that’s her way of reminding you.

You’re not alone. That night, Adam dreamt of her. He saw her standing by the restaurant’s door, wearing her old janitor uniform. Only this time, it was bright and spotless. Her face glowed softly. She smiled at him. “My son,” she said, her voice warm like sunlight. “I told you this was just the beginning. Keep being kind.

Keep being different and never forget. L those who lift others will never fall. Go ahead and marry Jessica. Make her happy and treats her well, just like you treated me.” When Adam woke up, tears were in his eyes, but his heart felt light for the first time in months. He rose, opened the curtains, and watched the sunrise. Outside, life was beginning again.

People rushing to work, buses honking, the smell of breakfast drifting through the streets. He whispered to the air, “Thank you, mama, for teaching me what true wealth means.” Then he smiled, the kind of smile she used to give him every morning, and walked toward his car. Because somewhere deep inside, he knew she hadn’t really left. She had simply gone home.

6 days after her burial, the wedding went on. Just as she had said in the dream, Adam didn’t want to, but Jessica held his hand and said, “This is what she wanted to see you happy.” The hall was decorated in white and gold, the same colors Madame Evelyn loved most. Her framed photo sat in the front row, surrounded by flowers.

As Adam and Jessica walked down the aisle, tears streamed down their faces, every step echoed with memory. how Evelyn would have walked them down herself. How she would have held Jessica’s wedding gown with such excitement. The guests were silent, moved to tears as the couple stopped midway.

Adam lifted his eyes toward her photo and whispered, “Mama, this is for you.” Jessica squeezed his hand. They both smiled through the tears. Though grief sat heavy in their hearts, there was peace, too. A quiet joy that came from knowing she was finally resting. That day, Adam didn’t see wealth, fame, or cameras. He saw a journey from a trash bin to a mansion. From rejection to honor, from being called a witch to being called mother.

And as they exchanged vows, Adam’s heart whispered the truth he would carry forever. I couldn’t save everyone, but I gave you back your dignity. You left this world loved. The choir sang softly. It is well with my soul. Adam closed his eyes and smiled faintly.

He was still grieving, but beneath the pain was peace, the kind Madame Evelyn had prayed for. Because she had lived enough to prove that kindness never dies. And though the world once accused her, heaven had already written her story differently, the woman, the world called witch, had fed an angel. And that angel named Adam never forgot.