The sun had barely risen when Mama Ronke called out from the front yard.
"Maria! Somebody is looking for you!"
Maria stepped out, hands still damp from rinsing pap. Her heart skipped.
Standing at the gate was a tall, sharply dressed woman in a sky-blue boubou, sunglasses perched on her head.
Not Vanessa.
It was Alexander's mother.
"Good morning," the woman said, her voice calm but powerful. "I'm Ifeoma Madu."
Maria's breath caught. "Ma… what are you doing here?"
"I came to see the woman who gave my son a child. And who vanished like smoke."
Mama Ronke stepped back, quietly sensing the tension.
"May I sit?" Ifeoma asked.
Maria nodded slowly.
They sat under the mango tree, a basin of soaked clothes between them.
"I won't waste your time," Ifeoma began. "My family… we're not kind to outsiders. Especially not ones like you. But Alexander—he's not the same since you disappeared."
Maria kept her face blank.
"I've seen many women try to trap powerful men," Ifeoma continued. "But when I saw the photo of your son… my grandson… I knew this wasn't a trap. It was real."
Maria whispered, "I didn't ask for his money. Or his name."
"I know," Ifeoma said. "That's why I'm here."
There was a long pause.
"I don't like you," the woman added honestly. "Not yet. But I respect what you've done. Raising a child alone. Protecting him. That takes strength."
Maria blinked fast. She hadn't expected kindness from that direction.
"You deserve to be heard," Ifeoma said as she stood. "So come back. For yourself. Not for him. Not even for Junior. For your own story."
She handed Maria a folded note.
"Your seat is waiting. If you're bold enough to take it."
Then she left, as quietly as she'd come.