The room was heavy.
Mayel felt many things at once—pain, understanding, sadness, release.
Slowly, she knelt too.
“Mama,” she said gently, “I suffered because of something I did not do. But you also suffered because of something you did not choose.”
She took her mother’s hands.
“I forgive you, Mama.”
Outside the door, Linda stood quietly. She had not meant to listen, but she heard enough.
Something shifted inside her.
Later that night, she entered the room.
“Mama,” she said, her voice different now, “you did not train me well.”
Madame Oni looked at her.
“You protected me from work, from discipline, from correction. You loved me wrongly.”
The truth stung.
Linda looked at her twins sleeping on the mat.
