The mud was cold. Amanda’s knees were in it. Her hands were in it. And her face was wet with tears and dirty rainwater. “Please, please don’t leave me here,” she cried. Her voice shook. Her dress was soaked and brown from the mud. Her hair was stuck to her face. Her hands were shaking. She was not a child.

 She was 20 years old, and she didn’t even know her real name. The small compound was quiet except for her crying and the slow dripping of rain from the zinc roof. It had rained not long ago, and the ground in front of the modest bungalow was still wet. Catherine stood at the doorway with her arms folded. Her face was hard, her eyes were cold.

Beside her was her husband, Jeremy. He looked angry, but also scared, like he wasn’t sure if this had gone too far. Get up and leave, Catherine snapped. I said, “Leave this house now.” Amanda tried to stand, but her elbow slipped and her palm landed back in the mud. she winced.

 I don’t know where to go, she cried. I don’t remember anything. Please, please don’t do this to me. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to break the cup. I’m sorry. It was not just a cup, Catherine shouted. Jeremy looked at his wife. He knew it was a cup. Just a glass cup from the kitchen. But he kept quiet. You think you can come into my house? Catherine said, pointing, “Look pretty and sweet and innocent and start breaking things.

 You think I’m stupid? You think I don’t know what you’re doing? Amanda shook her head fast. No, I swear I don’t even know what I’m doing. I don’t know who I am. That part was true. She really didn’t. That morning she woke up and did not know her birthday. She did not know her full name. She did not know where she came from.

 She only knew the name they gave her, Amanda. Jeremy had been the one to say, “She looks like an Amanda. Let’s just call her Amanda. At least give her something. That was one month ago. Now Jeremy would not even look at her. Catherine stepped forward. You are old enough to work. You are old enough to use your eyes to look for men. You can find where to go.

 You will not stay here and destroy my home. My home. That’s what she said. As if Amanda was not even human. Amanda pressed her muddy hand flat against the ground so she wouldn’t fall again. Her voice was very small. Now, please, Ma, please don’t send me away. I don’t know anybody. Catherine laughed. That laugh did not sound like someone who once begged God for a child.

It sounded like fire. You don’t know anybody. You will know somebody today, she said. They’re outside. Amanda blinked. Who? And then it happened. First it was the sound. Engines. Deep, heavy, powerful engines. Not neighbors car. These ones sounded different. Jeremy’s head snapped toward the gate so fast you would think someone had called his own name. Catherine frowned.

 Who is that? Who is coming here? Amanda, still on the floor, still crying, turned her head weakly. Then the gate opened and everything changed. A black SUV rolled into the compound. Then another, then another. All black, all tinted. The cars did not look like they belonged on this street.

 

 They looked like they should be in Banana Island or in front of government houses or in movies. Jeremy took a small step back. His mouth was open now. “What is this?” he whispered. Catherine suddenly fixed her wrapper and pushed her hair back fast like she needed to look important. “Ah, maybe it’s government,” she said. “Maybe somebody is coming to say thank you for how we helped the girl.

 Act normal then smile.” But she was already sweating. The first SUV stopped, the back door opened, and a man stepped out. Tall, dark skin, sharp, serious eyes, wearing black suit that he didn’t even look around before three men in black followed behind him and spread out like protection. The street was quiet now. Even the neighbor who was sweeping stopped sweeping and just stared through the fence. Jeremy swallowed.

 “Baby, baby,” he whispered to Catherine. “Do you know who that is?” Catherine whispered back without moving her mouth. Shut up and smile. The man in the black suit looked at the house, then at Jeremy, then at Catherine, then his eyes dropped. And when he saw Amanda in the mud, his whole face changed. He did not act like a stranger.

 He did not act like someone who just found a random girl crying. He acted like someone who had been afraid. Amanda, he breathed. Amanda froze. Her crying stopped. Her body started shaking for a new reason. Her eyes were big now. “What? What?” she whispered. The man didn’t wait. He walked fast to her, past Catherine, past Jeremy, and he didn’t care that there was mud.

 He dropped to his knees in front of her, suit and all. He held her face with both hands, gentle, careful, like she was glass, like she was home. “Oh my god,” he said, voice breaking. “Amanda, we’ve been looking for you.” Amanda stared at him. Something in her eyes moved like a light trying to turn on. “Do I know you?” she asked in a whisper. His jaw clenched. He noddedfast. “Yes, yes, you do.

” Her lips opened a little. Catherine took one step back. “Jeremy.” He could not feel his legs. Their hands were in their heads, knowing the trouble coming after them. The man looked up. His voice was no longer soft. “Who did this to her?” he asked. Everything stopped. Even the rain dripping from the roof seemed to stop.

Catherine laughed again, but this time the laugh sounded weak. No sir, you don’t understand what you’re seeing. She broke a glass cup. So we He did not talk to her. He talked to Amanda. Amanda, he said again, but this time there was something heavy in his voice. Something dangerous. Who did this to you? Amanda swallowed.

Her hand shook as she lifted one muddy finger and pointed at Jeremy, then at Catherine. Jeremy felt his stomach drop like he was falling through the floor. No, no, wait, sir. It’s not like that. I can explain. Catherine dropped to her knees on the wet floor so fast the mud splashed her gown.

 Please, please, sir, listen first. Now all the men in black suits were standing around them in a half circle. You could tell they were security, not noisy, not smiling, watching. The man stood up slowly. He turned and his face was not gentle anymore. Punish her like this. Because of a glass cup, he asked. No one answered. You threw her into the mud.

You put her outside like an animal. His eyes were sharp now. Do you have any idea who she is? Amanda looked at him again. Her heart was loud in her own ears. Who I am? who I am. It hurt inside her head like a door that wanted to open but was locked with chains. Catherine lifted her hands like she was praying.

Sir, please. We helped her. We are not bad people. People told us there was a girl in the hospital with no family. We went there. We took her. We took care of her. Stop. The man said. Catherine stopped talking. He turned his head just a little and one of his men handed him a phone.

 The man spoke quietly like he was tired of being angry. “Get the police here now,” Jeremy gasped. “Police, police, sir, please. We didn’t sell her. We didn’t beat her. We only You only what?” The man snapped. “You only took someone who lost her memory. You only hid her. You only used her in your house. And you never tried to tell the public. You never called for her family.

You never called the news. You never called anybody. You wanted a servant.” No, Catherine cried. Tears were rolling down her face now. No, sir. I just I just I was scared. Okay. I was scared of her. The man turned slowly. Scared of her? His voice was deep now. You were scared of her. Catherine was shaking. Yes.

 My friend Sandra said, “My husband might fall in love with her because she’s young and beautiful and maybe one day he will leave me for her.” And she started crying harder. I didn’t mean to hurt her. I didn’t mean to. I swear I was just scared. Jeremy looked at her like she had set his shirt on fire in public. The man stared at both of them like they were nothing.

 Then he said quietly, “Do you know her name?” Catherine was confused. “You said it, Amanda.” The man shook his head. His eyes softened again when he looked at the girl in the mud. “No,” he whispered. “Her name is not Amanda.” Amanda felt something electric run through her chest. Her lips parted. Her breathing got fast. Not Amanda.

 The man swallowed like the next words were heavy. Her name is Jasmine Anderson. And she is not just somebody we found. She is the daughter of Chief Williams Anderson. Jeremy’s mouth dropped open. Catherine’s hands flew to her own chest. The man kept going. She is my sister. And the whole compound went silent. Even Amanda stopped breathing. Sister Jasmine.

Jasmine Anderson. Her vision blurred. Her head was spinning. Something in her tried to wake up. A door inside her mind pounded hard like someone on the other side was screaming. Open. Open. Open. Then her eyes rolled a little. Her body went soft. “Hey, hey,” the man said, catching her before she could fall sideways into the mud.

 “Hey, stay with me, Jasmine. Look at me. Jasmine, it’s me. It’s Lucas. Lucas. That name. That name did something. Her lips moved. Lou Cass. His face broke. Yes, he whispered. Yes. Yes. I’m here. I’ve got you. Her eyes filled. I’m I’m scared. I know, he said. You’re safe now. Two of his men were already spreading a clean blanket across the back seat of the first SUV.

Another brought out a white towel. Another was on the phone, calm, saying, “Yes, private hospital. Prepare a room. Neurology team ready.” Catherine and Jeremy were still on their knees in the mud. They looked small now. So, so small. Catherine tried again. Sir, please. We didn’t know. We didn’t know she was.

 Lucas turned his head just enough to look at her. And Catherine stopped talking. He did not shout. He did not insult her. He just said in a quiet voice that somehow felt louder than a scream. You will explain at the station. Then blue sirens flashed at the gate. The police had arrived.

 Catherinelet out a loud cry like someone punched her in the stomach. Please, please. She grabbed Jeremy’s arm. Baby, say something. Tell them we didn’t mean it. But the officers were already walking into the compound. Jeremy raised his hands. He was shaking. Officer, please. We are not kidnappers. We didn’t take her for money. We even fed. Move, one officer said.

 His hands were already on Jeremy’s wrist. Cold metal clicked. Handcuffs. Catherine screamed and tried to pull back, but another officer held her arms and turned her around. Please, she cried. Please, she lived with us. Lucas didn’t look at them again. He was busy wrapping Jasmine in the towel so she wouldn’t sit in the car with wet clothes. His hands were steady.

 His eyes were not. He looked like a man who almost lost something he could not lose. He lifted her and when he did, Jasmine’s muddy hand clung to his shirt like a scared child. “Don’t leave me,” she whispered. He held her tighter. “Never again,” he said. The SUV door closed, engines started, the compound shook. Catherine and Jeremy were crying as the police pushed them toward the gate.

Neighbors were watching with their mouths open. And in that moment, in that small, wet, poor compound, everybody finally understood something. No one knew who that girl on the ground was. Not until now. Not until the billionaire arrived. Not until he said, “She is my sister.” The black SUVs began to pull out.

 Police dragged Catherine and Jeremy toward their car, and just before the convoy drove away, Lucas’s window rolled down halfway. He did not look at Catherine. He did not look at Jeremy. He looked straight ahead and said, “Clear and sharp, tomorrow morning they will stand in court.” Then the window slid back up. The convoy drove off into the street.

 The sirens followed, the gate closed, and all that was left in the quiet compound was dirty water, broken crying, and the memory of the moment Catherine realized she did not just throw a poor girl into the mud. She threw a billionaire’s sister. The next morning, the city of Lagos woke up noisy as usual. Car horns, bus shouts, generator hums.

 But inside the Eaya High Court, everything was quiet. Too quiet. Reporters whispered to each other at the back row. The air smelled faintly of old paper, wet coats, and nervous sweat. A camera clicked once, twice, and then fell silent again. Everyone was waiting for the hearing to begin. At exactly 9:00 a.m.

, the heavy wooden doors opened. Two police officers walked in first. Then came Catherine and Jeremy. Their wrists were cuffed together, their clothes were wrinkled, their eyes swollen from a night with no sleep. Catherine’s blue gown had dried mud at the bottom. Jeremy’s shirt was unbuttoned at the neck, his hair messy, his face pale.

 They didn’t look like the proud couple who once walked around their neighborhood boasting about adopting a girl to help humanity. They looked like what guilt really was. Tired, broken, and scared. They were made to sit on the defendant’s bench. Catherine’s hands trembled as she whispered, “Jeremy, what are we going to do? They’ll lock us up forever.

” Jeremy swallowed hard. Just stay calm. Maybe the billionaire won’t come. Maybe he will drop the case. But as soon as he said that, the sound of camera flashes filled the room. A convoy of black SUVs had just stopped outside the court. The doors swung open again, and Lucas Anderson walked in. The billionaire CEO himself.

 He didn’t wear his suit jacket today, just a clean white shirt tucked neatly into dark trousers. But he still looked like power wrapped in calm. Behind him walked two lawyers, one carrying a file, the other holding a tablet. A few people in the audience whispered his name. That’s him. Lucas Anderson, the CEO of Williams Group. They say he’s one of the richest men in Africa. And the girl, that’s his sister.

Everyone turned their heads toward the side entrance. Two nurses gently wheeled in a young woman, Amanda. Her hair was brushed neatly now, tied in a soft bun. She wore a hospital gown under a clean gray sweater. Her face was pale but peaceful. The bruises on her arm had started to fade.

 When she blinked, her eyes looked far away, like she was awake, but not fully back yet. Lucas walked beside her close enough that their hands almost touched. When they reached the front, he helped the nurses lock the wheelchair in place and then sat beside her. Catherine couldn’t look. Her chest was shaking. “Oh my god,” she whispered. “She’s really here.

” Jeremy put a hand over his mouth. We’re finished. The judge, an older woman with silver rimmed glasses and calm eyes, entered and took her seat. Everyone rose. The courtroom fell completely silent. This court is now in session, she said firmly. Case number 4217. The state versus Katherine and Jeremy Lawson, accused of unlawful adoption, physical abuse, and medical neglect of Miss Jasmine Anderson, daughter of the late Chief Williams Anderson.

Catherine’s heart sank when she heardthe full name. Jasmine Anderson, not Amanda, not the lost girl, not the servant she once scolded, but Jasmine, the daughter of the man whose name everyone in Lagos respected. The judge adjusted her glasses. Prosecution proceed. The state attorney stood up tall and confident.

 My lord, the accused couple illegally adopted the victim through an unregistered channel after hearing of her accident and memory loss. They misrepresented themselves as caregivers, then subjected her to inhumane treatment. Instead of aiding her recovery, they isolated her, withheld information, and used her as domestic help.

 We have evidence, witness statements, and medical reports to prove it. He turned toward Lucas. Mr. Anderson, please step forward. Lucas stood and walked to the witness stand. State your full name, the judge said. Lucas Williams Anderson. You are the elder brother of the victim. Yes, my lord. And how long had she been missing before this? Lucas took a deep breath.

 4 months. There was a car accident on Third Mainland Bridge. Her body wasn’t found and everyone assumed she drowned, but I never stopped searching. Two weeks ago, I got a call from one of our private investigators who had tracked her medical records from the general hospital. By the time we got there, she was gone.

 The records said she was adopted by the defendants. The judge nodded. Proceed. When I arrived at their home, Lucas continued, his voice lower now. I found her outside on the ground in the mud crying. They had thrown her out for breaking a glass cup. The courtroom gasped. The judge’s face stiffened. “Is this true?” Catherine started crying again.

 “My lord, I didn’t know she was from a rich family. I thought she was just just what?” The judge interrupted. “A stray? A toy?” Catherine went silent. Lucas’s voice broke a little when he spoke again. She didn’t even remember her name, and they made her beg in the rain. Amanda looked down at her hands. They were still healing, but her eyes were clearer now.

She whispered softly. “He’s telling the truth.” The courtroom grew quiet again. The judge turned to the defense table. “Do the defendants have anything to say?” Jeremy’s voice cracked as he stood. “My lord, I we made a mistake. We didn’t mean to hurt her. We just thought we just wanted a daughter.

 My wife can’t have children. We thought maybe Silence,” the judge said sharply. Wanting a child does not give you the right to break the law or treat someone’s daughter like a slave. Jeremy sat back down slowly, his head bowed. Catherine sobbed quietly beside him. After what felt like forever, the judge took off her glasses.

 This court has seen enough. The evidence is clear. The defendants are guilty of unlawful adoption and emotional abuse. Considering their cooperation, the sentence will be 2 years imprisonment. Catherine screamed. “Two years? Please, my lord, please. I’m sorry. Take them away,” the judge said. Two police officers moved forward and pulled the couple up.

 Catherine’s cries echoed through the room as they were led out. The courtroom fell silent again. Lucas turned toward Amanda, but what he saw made him freeze. She was crying, too, quiet tears sliding down her face. He knelt beside her and gently wiped them with his handkerchief. Hey, don’t cry. They can’t hurt you anymore.” Amanda looked at him.

 It’s not that. I just I feel bad for them. They saved me from that hospital, even if they didn’t treat me right. Maybe they were just broken inside. Lucas looked at her and his eyes softened. You’re too kind for this world, Jasmine. Her lips curved slightly. Amanda, I still remember that name. It feels safe. He smiled faintly. Then keep it. Be both.

Amanda and Jasmine. My sister, the strong one who survived. She nodded, still crying, and whispered, “Thank you, brother.” Lucas squeezed her hand. “Always.” As the officers led Catherine and Jeremy out of the courtroom, Amanda turned her head slightly to look at them. Her tears didn’t stop, but her voice was steady.

“I forgive you,” she whispered. Catherine looked back, shocked and for the first time truly ashamed. Outside, the morning sun shone on the court steps, reflecting off the SUVs parked below. Lucas helped Amanda into one of them, her head resting on his shoulder. The engine started again, moving slowly into the busy Lagos street.

 Amanda looked out the window at the people passing by, her reflection in the glass, looking both like a stranger and someone finally waking up. She closed her eyes and whispered to herself, “Maybe I’ll find out who I really am again.” And just as the car turned toward the private hospital, she faintly remembered something.

 A faint flash of laughter, a family photo, a name plate that read, “Chief Williams Anderson and children.” Her eyes opened wide. She gasped softly, “Lucas, I remember something.” Lucas turned sharply toward her. What did you remember? Amanda’s lips trembled. I saw our father. And that was how it began. The first spark of a memory that would changeeverything.

 The morning sunlight filtered softly through the curtains of the private hospital in Victoria Island. The air smelled like antiseptic and lilies, a calm that Amanda wasn’t used to. She sat on the hospital bed, her back straight, her eyes distant, as if she were watching a movie only she could see. Lucas sat beside her.

 Still in his white shirt from the courtroom, his eyes tired, but full of relief. For the first time in months, his sister was alive, safe, and beginning to remember. A nurse walked in quietly and set a tray of breakfast by the bedside. “Good morning, sir.” “Good morning, Ma,” she said with a polite smile. Please, Miss Amanda, try to eat something today. Amanda smiled faintly.

Thank you. When the nurse left, Lucas leaned forward. What did you remember last night? You said you saw dad. Amanda turned her head slowly, her voice soft. It was like a flash just for a few seconds. I saw him smiling. He was sitting by the balcony at the old mansion. The one in Ecoy. Lucas’s eyes brightened. That’s right.

 You used to sit beside him every evening after work. You always said that was your favorite place. Amanda frowned, touching her forehead gently. Everything feels like it’s hiding behind a curtain. I see bits and pieces, but they’re all blurry. I remember a car. A loud sound, then water, cold water.

 Lucas reached out and took her hand. You were in an accident. Your car went off the third mainland bridge. The driver didn’t survive. We searched for days. The divers found nothing. I thought his voice broke slightly. I thought I lost you forever. Amanda looked at him, eyes wet. But you didn’t stop looking. He smiled faintly. I promised, Dad, I would always protect you.

 They sat in silence for a while, the only sound being the faint beeping of the monitor beside her bed. Then Amanda whispered, “Lucas, why were we in the car that night?” Lucas looked away, his jaw tightening. “You were coming home from the Williams Group anniversary gala. You wanted to make a speech about Dad’s legacy, but he hesitated.

 There was another car that followed yours.” The police never caught them. Amanda’s eyebrows drew together. “Another car?” Lucas nodded slowly. “Yes, it rammed into yours from behind. Witnesses said it looked deliberate, but by the time investigators arrived, there was no trace of them. She gasped softly. “So, the accident wasn’t an accident?” Lucas sighed, rubbing his temples.

“That’s what I’ve always suspected. But without you, I had no proof. I needed your memory to fill in the missing pieces.” Amanda’s hand trembled slightly. I remember headlights, bright ones, and someone shouting my name. Lucas, I think it was Dad’s voice, but he’s been gone for years. She pressed her palm to her forehead, tears welling up.

 It’s like the memories are fighting to come back. But it hurts. Lucas moved closer and placed a gentle hand on her shoulder. Don’t force it, okay? You’ve been through too much already. But Amanda shook her head. No, I need to remember. Someone wanted me gone, Lucas. I can feel it. That night wasn’t random. Lucas looked at her, torn between pride and fear.

 You sound just like Dad, stubborn and brave. She smiled weakly through the tears. Maybe that’s something I didn’t forget. Later that afternoon, a soft knock came at the door. “Come in,” Lucas said. A tall, middle-aged man entered, dressed in a navy blue suit. He carried a brown folder and wore a kind smile. “Mr. Anderson,” he said respectfully.

Detective Bameadel from the Lagos State Criminal Investigation Department. You asked me to reopen the accident file. Lucas stood up and shook his hand. Yes, thank you for coming. Badel turned toward Amanda and bowed slightly. Miss Jasmine, or should I say Miss Amanda, I’m glad to see you alive. We’ve been trying to piece together what really happened that night.

 Amanda smiled faintly. Thank you, sir. I’m trying to remember, too. The detective opened the folder and spread out several photographs on the table. Damaged cars, the bridge, the dark water. One of the photos made Amanda’s breath catch. It was the last image of her car before it went over the railing. This, Badel said, pointing at the photo, was taken from a security camera under the bridge.

 Notice this second car behind you, a black Toyota Prao. No plate number visible. Amanda stared hard. That car? I’ve seen it before. At the office, maybe. Or maybe outside my apartment. I can’t remember. Lucas’s expression darkened. Do you think it was someone from the company? The detective hesitated. We can’t be sure yet, but the Williams group had competitors, and there were rumors of internal betrayal after Chief Williams died.

 Amanda blinked, confusion on her face. Betrayal? Lucas nodded grimly. When dad died, the board tried to take over the company. You were the general manager. They knew you were next in line after me. Maybe they thought if you were gone, they could get rid of me, too. Amanda stared at him, horror slowlyfilling her face.

 You think someone from our own company tried to kill me? Before Lucas could answer, the nurse rushed in. Sir, sorry to interrupt, but the patient needs to rest. Her blood pressure is dropping. Lucas stood and nodded quickly. Of course, thank you. The detective gathered his papers. I’ll return tomorrow. Please, Miss Amanda, if you remember even one name or face, call me immediately.

After he left, Amanda lay back against her pillow. The room felt colder now. Lucas sat beside her, silent, his mind racing. She looked at him weakly. If I was really the target, then whoever did this still thinks I’m dead. Lucas’s eyes widened slightly. That could be an advantage.

 Amanda turned her head toward him. Advantage. He leaned closer, lowering his voice. If the world still believes you died, we can use that to find out who did this. You’ll stay hidden until we know the truth. Amanda stared at him, fear and determination mixing in her eyes. You want me to pretend I’m dead? Lucas nodded. Just for now. It’s the only way to catch them.

Amanda closed her eyes, her heart racing. Outside, thunder rumbled faintly in the distance, echoing over the Lagos skyline. She didn’t know what was coming next. But something deep inside told her this was only the beginning because the person who tried to end her life was still out there.

 and soon they would realize the girl they thought was gone had come back. Not weak, not lost, but ready. Three weeks later, the Williams mansion in Banana Island was bright again. The garden had been trimmed, the pool water sparkled, and the press believed Amanda Anderson had died peacefully months ago. Only a few trusted people knew the truth.

 She was alive and watching. Amanda stood by the upstairs balcony that morning, staring at the city below. She looked stronger now, dressed in a soft cream blouse and black trousers, her hair tied neatly. The scars on her arm had faded, but the memories in her mind were just beginning to open like slow, painful doors.

 Lucas joined her, holding a tablet. The board meeting is in an hour, he said quietly. Remember, you’re Amina Williams, my new executive assistant. No one knows who you really are. Amanda nodded. I’ll stay quiet and observe. I want to see their faces myself. Lucas looked at her proudly. You’ve changed, Jasmine.

 She smiled faintly. No, I just finally remember who I am. The boardroom at Williams group was all glass and power. 12 people sat around a long table, the Lagos skyline glowing behind them. Some whispered nervously as Lucas entered, followed by Amanda. Good morning, everyone. Lucas began setting his tablet down. This meeting is confidential.

We’re reviewing internal accounts and project records from the last quarter. The CFO, a man in his 50s named Mr. Femi, cleared his throat. Sir, the figures look clean. The losses after your sisters passing were unfortunate, but we’re stabilizing. Lucas’s expression stayed calm, but his eyes darkened slightly. Losses, he repeated.

Yes, the same losses that started right after her accident. Femi blinked. Sir. Amanda sat quietly beside him, pretending to type notes, but her eyes darted across the room, studying everyone. The head of legal, Mrs. Evelyn Cole, was smiling politely. Too politely. She wore a gold brooch that glittered in the light.

 Amanda felt a strange twist in her stomach. Something about that brooch looked familiar. Then suddenly, it hit her. Rain on the windshield. A woman’s hand gripping the steering wheel beside her. That same gold brooch flashing under the car light. A voice shouting, “You shouldn’t have come back.” Then the sound of tires screeching, metal crunching, and darkness.

 Amanda’s heart started pounding. She clutched the pen in her hand so tightly it almost snapped. Lucas noticed. “Amanda,” he whispered. She took a deep breath and forced a small smile. “I’m fine,” she whispered back. But her mind was racing. It was Evelyn, the woman sitting right across the table, her father’s trusted legal adviser, the woman who had cried the loudest at Chief Williams funeral.

Amanda lowered her head to hide the fear on her face. Evelyn was the one who drove that car. Later that day, back at the mansion, Amanda paced the study while Lucas listened. “You’re absolutely sure?” he asked. “Yes,” she said, her voice shaking. “I remember now. It wasn’t a man who hit me that night. It was her. Evelyn Cole.

 She was in Dad’s car. She shouted at me. Said I should have stayed out of the company’s affairs. Lucas’s eyes narrowed. Evelyn was Dad’s lawyer for 15 years. Why would she do this? Amanda stopped pacing. Because Dad trusted her with everything. She knew where every document was. The will, the ownership papers, everything. Maybe she wanted control after he died.

Lucas clenched his fists. Then we’ll expose her. Amanda shook her head quickly. No, not yet. She’s dangerous, and she still thinks I’m dead. We can use that. Lucas stared at his sister for a moment, realizing how much she’dchanged. There was no more trembling, no more fear, only quiet fire. “So, what’s your plan?” he asked.

 Amanda exhaled slowly. We’ll make her expose herself. Two nights later, Evelyn’s sleek black car rolled into the underground parking lot of the company. She thought she was alone, but someone was watching. Amanda, dressed in dark jeans and a hoodie, hid behind a pillar, recording with her phone.

 She watched as Evelyn stepped out of her carrying a brown envelope. She walked to the storage room, unlocked the door, and pulled out a hidden file cabinet. Inside were stacks of documents marked Williams estate. Confidential. Amanda zoomed in her camera. “Got you,” she whispered. Then suddenly, Evelyn’s phone rang. She froze.

 Amanda ducked behind a wall, holding her breath. Evelyn answered in a low voice. “Yes.” The Anderson girl is gone for good. I made sure of that. Tell the buyer will finalize the property transfer by next week. Amanda’s blood ran cold. the buyer. They were selling her father’s estate. Evelyn hung up, locked the cabinet again, and walked away.

 As soon as her car disappeared, Amanda stepped out, heart thumping. She rushed to the cabinet, opened it, and took photos of every page she could find. Bank transfers, fake signatures, even a property deed with Evelyn’s initials forged beside Lucas’s. By the time she got back to the mansion, it was midnight.

 Lucas met her at the gate, worried. Where have you been? Amanda held up her phone. Getting proof. He stared at the screen, every image sharp and clear. His jaw tightened. She’s been transferring dad’s company properties to offshore accounts. Amanda nodded. And she planned the accident to remove me because I started questioning the missing funds before I lost my memory.

Lucas took a deep breath. We’re taking this to the police tomorrow. Amanda hesitated. No, let’s do it at the press conference next week during the Williams Foundation launch. She’ll be there. Let the whole country see who she really is. Lucas stared at her, pride flashing in his eyes. You’ve got Dad’s spirit.

Amanda smiled faintly. Maybe that’s why she was afraid of me. Outside, the night wind rustled the palm trees, carrying the faint sound of the ocean. Amanda stood by the window, looking out into the dark sky, thinking about everything that had happened. The mud, the betrayal, the pain. And now the woman behind her father’s empire was about to face justice.

 But deep down, Amanda knew one thing. Evelyn wouldn’t go down quietly. Somewhere in the city, Evelyn’s phone buzzed again. A message flashed on her screen. She’s alive. Evelyn’s eyes widened. She stared at the message for a long moment and then whispered to herself, her voice trembling with rage. Then she’ll die for real this time.

 The sun had set hours ago, painting the sky in soft shades of orange and gold over Banana Island. Inside the Williams mansion, the air was calm again, a piece that had taken years to return. Two years had passed since that unforgettable day at the Echo Convention Center. Evelyn Cole was serving her prison sentence.

 The company had fully recovered and the Williams Foundation had grown into one of Africa’s most respected charities. Amanda Anderson, once a lost girl in the mud, now sat on the balcony of the mansion, a gentle evening breeze brushing against her hair. Below her, the garden glowed softly under warm lights.

 Lucas walked in, holding two glasses of juice. “You’ve been quiet,” he said. “Thinking again?” Amanda smiled faintly. Just remembering how far we’ve come. He nodded. Dad would be proud. She turned to him. And so would mom. They always said forgiveness is stronger than revenge. Lucas raised an eyebrow. Speaking of forgiveness, are you sure about today? Amanda looked down toward the gate. Yes.

 They wrote me two letters from prison. I think it’s time. That evening, a black sedan rolled slowly into the compound. Two figures stepped out, older, thinner, but unmistakable. Catherine and Jeremy. Their clothes were worn, their faces lined with guilt. Catherine clutched her scarf like it was the only thing holding her together. Jeremy kept his eyes low, his hands shaking.

 When the mansion doors opened, and Amanda appeared with Lucas beside her, they both froze. For a moment, no one moved. The night was still, except for the faint chirping of crickets. Then Catherine suddenly dropped to her knees. Tears rolled down her cheeks as she cried out, “Please, Amanda, please forgive us.

 We’ve been haunted every day for what we did.” Jeremy followed, falling to his knees beside her. “We don’t expect anything from you. We just needed to say we’re sorry. You trusted us when you had no one, and we threw you away like trash.” Amanda’s eyes softened, her heart breaking all over again, but not from anger, from compassion.

 She walked slowly toward them, her white gown brushing against the marble floor. When she reached them, she stopped, looking down at the same two people who oncethrew her into the mud. Her voice was calm but steady. “I used to hate you,” she said quietly. “I used to ask myself why God let me suffer that way.

 But then I realized something. Catherine lifted her eyes slowly, trembling. What? What did you realize? Amanda took a deep breath. That even though you treated me badly, you still saved me first. You took me from that hospital when no one else would. You gave me food, a roof, and a name.

 Before you became cruel, you gave me life again. And for that, I can’t hate you anymore. Catherine covered her face and sobbed. Jeremy bowed his head, whispering, “We don’t deserve your forgiveness.” Amanda knelt down too, her eyes wet. “Maybe not, but forgiveness isn’t about who deserves it. It’s about who needs to be free.” She reached into her purse and brought out an envelope.

 She placed it on the ground between them. Jeremy frowned, confused. “What’s this?” Amanda smiled softly. “5 million naira. Enough to start over. to build something honest, to pick up the pieces of your lives. Catherine’s mouth fell open. No, we can’t take this. Not after everything. Amanda shook her head gently.

 You can because I’m not doing this for you. I’m doing it for me. For peace. Catherine broke down again, crying so hard she could barely speak. God bless you, my daughter. God bless you. Amanda [clears throat] placed a hand on her shoulder, her touch gentle. Please don’t call me that. Just call me Amanda. Lucas, who had been watching quietly from the steps, smiled proudly.

Catherine and Jeremy rose slowly, clutching the envelope with shaking hands. As they walked toward the gate, Catherine turned one last time. Her voice was low and sincere. Thank you for saving us from ourselves. Amanda watched them disappear down the driveway, the sound of their footsteps fading into the night.

 Lucas stepped beside her. You really meant it? He said softly. Amanda nodded. Yes, because if I carried that pain forever, it would mean they still controlled my heart. Now I’m free. Lucas looked at her with admiration. You’ve become the woman Dad always said you’d be. Amanda smiled, her eyes glistening. No, Lucas.

 I’ve become the woman pain forced me to be, but kindness made me whole again. The two stood there in silence as the night deepened. The wind rustled gently through the palm trees, and the city lights shimmerred in the distance. For the first time since her accident, Amanda truly felt at peace. She had lost everything.

 Her memory, her identity, her home. But she had found something far greater. Forgiveness. And that was how the story of the girl once thrown into the mud ended. Not in revenge, but in grace. Amanda Anderson, the lost daughter of Chief Williams, smiled up at the moon and whispered, “Thank you, God, for giving me back my life.

” The camera of life would have panned upward then, from the golden mansion lights to the night sky, where stars blinked like witnesses to her journey. The story that began with tears in the mud ended with peace under the stars. Because sometimes the most powerful ending is not when justice wins, but when love does.

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