The Shape Of Her Absence

Chapter 2: The Aftermath

The weight of the silence was worse than the oppressive heat outside. Uncle Femi stood still, equal parts stone and shapeless grief in his expensive linen. Somto's gaze was fixated on his uncle's hand, the hand that signed multi-million naira contracts with full control, now shaking as the phone was delicately placed on the glass coffee table. Somto broke the silence again, "Uncle?" Femi doesn't shift his gaze. "Go and freshen up, Somto. The driver will take you to get dinner. I.... I have some calls to make. Business." The lie was obvious and Somto started his way to the stairs. He turned his head for a parting glance and quickly assessed the situation. Somto's uncle was not calling a business partner. His eyes were fixated on the call log with the 'Unknown Number' and his thumb hesitated over it, ready to jump back as if it was a hot stove. The richest mogul in the land, for the first time, looked like a man that understood that his empire was built on sand. Use the transition to connect the family drama and Somto's love interest. The next morning the gates of Nile University held a different meaning. The "curse" of the heat was as persistent as ever, but Somto was able to navigate through the masses with his uncle's parting remarks fresh on his mind; Choose presence. He located her next to the faculty building under the shade of a whistling pine. She was reading a book that looked fascinating and was concentrating hard. Just the day before, he would have hung back and watched, satisfied to let her exist as a ghost in his collection of "what-ifs." But the vision of his uncle’s trembling hand was still fresh on his mind.

He walked over to her, the pounding in his chest muffling the sound of machines running in the distance.

“Hi,” he said, stopping short of invading her personal space. “My name is Somto. I’ve been seeing you around a bit, and I’ve decided that I’d rather know your name than make up a name for you.”

The girl looked up, startled by the sudden approach. A grin slowly formed on her lips. “I’m Zainab,” she said. “And I think you’re late for your 10 o’clock appointment.”

Somto laughed and said “oh you’re probably right. I really should go now, but can I get your number first?” Zainab smiled shyly and wrote her number in Somto’s phone, and couldn’t help but laugh as he dashed to class, half running, while trying to get a last look at her. “He’s cute and funny” Zainab said to no one in particular as she turned and walked away.

Femi Lawson wasn’t looking at any real estate portfolios back at the estate. He called the head of his security team, the man who specializes in going to look for people who don’t want to be found.

“Trace it,” Femi said once the phone was in front of him on his desk.

"Likely a burner, it’s an unregistered SIM,” the man said. “It could be a prank. It could be a scammer who is aware of your history.” Femi stood and swiftly made his way to one of the floor to ceiling windows, tracing the skyline of Lagos he had molded. “Scammers don’t breathe like that. Scammers don’t say ‘My love’ with a voice that cracks after twenty years of regret.” He spun around, cutting his eyes with frustration. “I don’t care if you have to track every cell tower from Lekki to Badagry. I want to know where she is, if she’s in this city.” The head of security acknowledged the request with a nod. The weight of what Femi had just asked had settled. He had witnessed a ruthless Femi Lawson in boardrooms before, but never in a situation of this magnitude. “I’ll pull the tower pings,” he said. “If that phone stayed on for even one second after the hang-up, we will have a target radius.” Femi had already turned away, eyes fixed on the glass where he stood haunted by the boy who had once twirled with sheer joy. to now, trapped in a gilded cage of his own making. “Find her,” he said with his breath fogging the glass. “I have spent my life making my name known.”

Now I just need to find the one person that actually knows my heart.