I lost my mum when I was sixteen, and years later, in the chaos of London, I found a second mother in Mrs. Evans, my landlady. This is the story of how she helped me survive, how we clashed and cared for each other, and how her passing left me searching for meaning and gratitude in the city’s relentless rush. Now, as I stand at her empty doorstep, I wonder if I ever truly said thank you.