Mother Village Chapter 1 -

Koffi picked it up. The doll’s wooden chest was warm. And inside it, something beat like a tiny, patient heart.

Three days ago, those hands had stopped moving. They had been kneading dough for morning flatbread, the same way they had every day for as long as Koffi could remember. Then the pestle slipped. Then the fingers curled. Then the eyes—those warm, river-stone eyes—went somewhere else. Somewhere far behind them. mother village chapter 1

For the first time in three days, she turned her head. Koffi picked it up

That was when Koffi noticed the crack.

Something was wrong. And every wrong thing pointed east. Three days ago, those hands had stopped moving

The Old Wall was higher than he remembered. Or maybe he was smaller. He climbed it anyway, scraping his knees on stones that felt warm, almost feverish. At the top, he paused.

But Koffi wasn’t thinking about the Grove. He was thinking about his mother’s hands.