Tunde found the tiny lantern on his way back from evening lesson, its light flickering like it had a heartbeat. When he picked it up, the glow rushed into his palms and whispered directions only he could hear. It led him past his street, past the football field, down to the old mango tree everyone avoided.

There, the lantern dimmed until only a dot of gold remained. Tunde touched the bark, and the tree answered with a soft hum. A hidden door slid open, warm air drifting out. Inside were shelves filled with memories — people’s happiest moments bottled in little jars.

The lantern nudged him toward one jar glowing a calm blue. He opened it, and a peaceful feeling washed over him, quiet as a Sunday morning. The lantern’s light faded completely, its mission done.

Tunde stepped back outside, the door sealing itself. He walked home with an unexplainable calm in his chest, as if he carried a secret sunrise no one else could see.