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“Mama,” he called out. “Mama, I’m home.”
The house was quiet. Too quiet.
Then he heard footsteps. Click, click, click. High heels on the tile floor.
Vanessa appeared in the hallway. She was wearing a tight dress and her bright red lipstick. When she saw Daniel, her face went pale.
“Daniel,” she said, her voice shaking. “What… what are you doing here?”
Daniel laughed. “What do you mean? I came home. I came to surprise you and Mama.”
He walked toward her with his arms open for a hug, but Vanessa stepped back.
“You should have called,” she said quickly. “You should have told me you were coming.”
“What, is something wrong?” Daniel looked around. “Where’s Mama? Is she in her room?”
“No,” Vanessa said. “She’s… she’s not here.”
Daniel felt his smile fade.
“What do you mean she’s not here? Where is she?”
Vanessa smoothed her dress with shaking hands. “She went out to visit a friend. An old friend from church.”
“Which friend?”
“You don’t know her.”
“When will Mama be back?”
“I don’t know. Maybe later. Maybe tomorrow.”
Something felt very wrong. Daniel’s chest felt tight.
“Vanessa, what’s going on?”
“Nothing,” Vanessa said, her voice too loud. “Nothing is going on. Your mother just isn’t here right now. That’s all.”
Daniel walked past her and down the hallway. He opened the first bedroom door. It was empty except for some boxes. He opened the second door. More boxes and old furniture. He opened the third door. The room was completely empty. No bed, no dresser, nothing.
“Where is Mama’s room?” Daniel asked, his voice quiet and dangerous.
Vanessa stood in the doorway. “She doesn’t live here anymore.”
Daniel turned slowly.
“What did you say?”
“She doesn’t live here. She hasn’t lived here for a while.”
“How long is a while?”
Vanessa looked at the floor. “About four years.”
The world seemed to stop.
Daniel felt like he could not breathe.
“For years,” he whispered. “My mother hasn’t lived in this house for four years?”
“She wanted to leave,” Vanessa said quickly. “She said the house was too big for her. She wanted something smaller, simpler.”
“You’re lying.”
“I’m not lying.”
“My mother would never leave this house. I built it for her.”
Daniel’s voice got louder.
“And even if she did want to leave, she would have told me. She tells me everything.”
“Does she?” Vanessa shot back. “When was the last time you really talked to your mother, Daniel? When was the last time you asked her real questions?”
Daniel felt like he had been slapped.
Because Vanessa was right. The calls had gotten so short, so surface-level. He could not remember the last time he had really, truly talked to his mother.
“Where is she?” Daniel asked, his voice shaking. “Where is my mother?”
“I don’t know.”
“Vanessa, I swear to God if you don’t tell me—”
“I don’t know!” Vanessa shouted. “She left. She didn’t tell me where she was going. That’s the truth.”
Daniel stared at his wife, at her expensive dress, her perfect makeup, her cold eyes, and suddenly he knew. He knew she was lying. He knew something terrible had happened.
“I’m going to find her,” Daniel said quietly.
He turned and walked toward the door.
“Daniel, wait,” Vanessa called, but he did not stop.
He got into another taxi and told the driver, “Take me to Mercy Church on Market Street.”
If anyone knew where Mama Ruth was, it would be the people at church. His mother never missed the Sunday service. They would know. They had to know.
The taxi pulled up in front of Mercy Church. It was a simple building with white walls and a blue cross on top. Daniel had been here many times as a child. Mama Ruth used to bring him every Sunday, even when they were so poor they could barely afford the bus fare.
Daniel pushed open the church doors.
Inside, it was cool and quiet. A few people sat in the wooden pews praying softly. At the front, near the altar, an old man was sweeping the floor.
“Excuse me,” Daniel called out. His voice echoed in the empty space.
The old man looked up. He was wearing simple clothes and had kind eyes. He squinted at Daniel. Then his face broke into a smile.
“Daniel. Little Daniel Miller.”
Daniel walked closer. He recognized the man now. It was Mr. Peter, the church caretaker. He had been working at the church for as long as Daniel could remember.
“Mr. Peter,” Daniel said, shaking his hand.
“It’s good to see you, my boy. Look at you. All grown up and fancy.”
Mr. Peter laughed, but then his smile faded.
“We heard you were abroad making lots of money. Your mama talks about you all the time.”
Daniel’s heart jumped.
“You’ve seen my mother recently?”
“Of course. She comes to church every Sunday. Never misses.” Mr. Peter leaned on his broom. “Although she hasn’t been looking too good lately. Very thin, very tired.”
“Where does she live?” Daniel asked urgently. “Do you know?”
Mr. Peter’s face became serious.
“You don’t know where your own mother lives?”
“I… it’s complicated. Please, Mr. Peter. I need to find her.”
The old man studied Daniel’s face for a long moment. Then he sighed.
“She lives out past the old market, on the edge of town, in a small hut near the river.”
Daniel felt his stomach drop.
“A hut? What do you mean, a hut?”
“Just that. A small hut. One room. No electricity.” Mr. Peter shook his head sadly. “We’ve been bringing her food when we can. The church ladies take turns. But she’s proud, your mama. She doesn’t like to ask for help.”
Daniel felt like he was going to be sick.
“How long has she been living there?”
“For years. Maybe longer.”
For years.
His mother had been living in a hut for four years while he sent thousands of dollars every month. While Vanessa lived in the beautiful house with the red roof.
“Can you take me to her?” Daniel asked, his voice breaking.
“Of course, my boy. Come.”
Mr. Peter put away his broom and led Daniel outside. They got into Daniel’s taxi, and Mr. Peter gave directions to the driver.
They drove through the city, past the nice neighborhoods with big houses and clean streets. They drove past the busy market where vendors sold fruits and vegetables. They kept driving until the roads became dirt and the houses became smaller and smaller.
Finally, they reached the edge of town. There were no streetlights here. No paved roads. Just dirt paths and scattered shacks.
“Stop here,” Mr. Peter said to the driver.
They got out of the taxi. Daniel told the driver to wait. Then he and Mr. Peter walked down a narrow path between tall weeds and thorny bushes.
“It’s just up ahead,” Mr. Peter said quietly.
Daniel’s heart was pounding so hard he thought it might burst out of his chest. His hands were shaking. His throat felt tight.
Then he saw it.
The hut.