Deep beneath the heart of the house, hidden where no light dared reach, Maria descended into the basement—her secret haven of control and cruelty. The dusty cellar hadn't seen a visitor since Christine left for the UK. But now, its entrance, veiled beneath Maria's bedroom, led to the only place she could fully be herself.
Inside sat a woman—frail, ghostly, yet noble in her suffering. Her name was Joana.
Every thirty days, Maria brought her food, supplies, and venom.
"You see, Joana," Maria began, voice sweet as syrup but laced with arsenic, "I thought loving Mandume would buy me a throne. But twenty years… wasted. All because I let a little rat live under my roof."
Joana flinched. "Who are you calling a rat, Maria?" she asked in a trembling whisper.
"Oh, sweet Joana. I forgot I missed last month's visit. I owe you an update on your beloved son."
Joana's eyes widened. "What happened to Mandume?"
Maria's face twisted with rage. "He'll die the moment I get my hands on the business and property documents. Do you understand?"
Joana, weak but desperate, leapt from the floor and blocked Maria's exit, falling to her knees.
"Please, I beg you! Don't hurt my son. Take everything—everything—but spare his life! I've endured this prison, this darkness, for twenty years! I let you take my place as his mother, as David's wife… I've stayed quiet. But don't touch him. Please, Maria!"
Maria smirked. "Touching. But you didn't give me anything, Joana. You lost. And you're still losing. Mandume doesn't even know you exist. To him, I'm his sweet, perfect mother."
Tears rolled down Joana's cheeks.
"And I knew you'd beg for him. It's honestly the only fun part left of this game." Maria laughed coldly. "But I'll tell you something worse than death—watching your child love a woman who wants to destroy you...oh, ah and there's Star"
"Star…" Joana whispered. A faint memory flickered in her mind—a strange light in the shape of a star the night she survived the crash.
"Yes, Star. That meddling brat arrived just this month and she's already breathing down my neck. I had the chance to shoot her or drug her, but somehow she escaped—with my gun. Spiritually. Can you imagine?"
Maria's eyes went wide with realization.
"The gun! That rat might still have it… She can't leave with it. I have to go."
"Maria, please—don't harm him!" Joana screamed as Maria stormed off, but her words dissolved into the walls.
Left in the dark, Joana knelt in silence. "God… please. Please protect my son. Just as You saved me from that fire twenty years ago… Save him too."
She wiped her tears, stood up slowly, and began to neatly stack the food Maria had thrown at her—her routine of resilience. Her only rebellion left.
And in the hollow silence, she asked the question out loud that haunted her heart:
"Who is Star? And why does Maria fear her so much?"
She already knew the answer, deep down. She just wasn't ready to believe it.