Sixteen Years I Didn’t Speak to My Mother. Then I Went Missing, and From Her Sickbed She Said “Go Find Her”
It did not make me panic.
It did the opposite.
It burned everything else away — the pain, the fever, the self-pity, the sixteen years — and left one single instruction standing in the middle of me, clean and absolute as a bone: keep her alive. Whatever it took.
Whatever it cost.
However far outside the rules I had to go.
Chapter 7 — A Thing I Will Not Describe
That third night, burning with fever, I remembered a doctor named Okafor.
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