Binta

Chapter Three — The Warning

The unknown number remained on my screen long after my father's car had turned onto our street.

Stay away from Trina.

Four words.

Four words that should have meant nothing.

Instead, they sat inside my head like a threat.

I read them again.

Then again.

My father pulled into our compound and switched off the engine.

Neither of us moved.

He had spent the entire drive pretending nothing had happened.

I had spent the entire drive pretending I believed him.

Finally, I slipped the phone into my pocket.

"Who was it?" he asked.

I looked at him.

"Who was what?"

"The message."

I almost smiled.

"You said you didn't want to know."

"I didn't say that."

"You said it was nobody."

My father's face tightened.

"Issa."

I opened the door.

"I'll see you inside."

"Issa."

I stopped.

He looked tired.

Older than he had looked that morning.

"Whatever you heard today," he said, "don't go looking for answers you aren't ready to hear."

I stared at him.

"That's exactly what someone says when there's something I need to know."

He looked away.

"Just trust me."

I wanted to.

That was the problem.

I had spent my entire life trusting my father.

But for the first time, I wondered whether my father had been protecting me from the truth or protecting the truth from me.

I walked into the house.

My mother was in the kitchen.

She turned when she heard me.

"How was it?"

I didn't answer.

She dried her hands on a cloth.

"Did you meet Binta?"

"Yes."

"And?"

I looked at her.

"She's nice."

My mother smiled.

"Alhamdulillah."

"But I'm not marrying her."

Her smile disappeared.

"We'll talk about that later."

"No. We should talk now."

"Issa."

"Why did Dad say he owes her father?"

My mother froze.

Only for a second.

But I saw it.

"What did he tell you?"

"So you knew."

She turned back toward the kitchen.

"Your father will explain."

"That's what everyone keeps saying."

She said nothing.

"Nobody wants to explain anything."

My mother continued arranging the dishes.

"Sometimes parents keep things from their children because they are trying to protect them."

"From what?"

She stopped.

Then looked at me.

"From the past."

"What happened in the past?"

She shook her head.

"Ask your father."

I laughed bitterly.

"Of course."

I walked away.

"Where are you going?"

"To see Tracy."

My mother's expression changed.

"Tonight?"

"Yes."

"Your father won't like that."

"That's becoming a very common problem."

She sighed.

"Issa."

I turned.

"Be careful."

"Of what?"

She looked at me for a long moment.

"Of loving someone simply because you want to believe they love you."

I stared at her.

Then she returned to the kitchen.

I didn't understand what she meant.

Not then.

Tracy didn't answer when I called.

I called again.

Nothing.

I sent a message.

We need to talk too.

No response.

I drove toward her family's home anyway.

The security guard recognized my car and opened the gate.

I parked near the garden.

Tracy wasn't there.

I waited.

Ten minutes.

Twenty.

Thirty.

Finally, I saw her.

She came out of the house wearing a long white dress.

She wasn't alone.

A man walked beside her.

I didn't recognize him.

He was tall.

Well dressed.

Older than me.

Maybe by five or six years.

He was laughing.

Tracy was laughing too.

I felt something ugly twist inside my chest.

She saw me.

Her smile vanished.

The man followed her gaze.

"Who's that?"

Tracy said something I couldn't hear.

The man looked at me.

Then back at her.

He smiled.

Not warmly.

As if he had just understood something.

Tracy walked toward me.

"Issa."

I stepped out of the car.

"Who's he?"

She glanced behind her.

"My father's associate."

"What's his name?"

"Why?"

"Because I asked."

She frowned.

"Why are you behaving like this?"

"I came here because you said we needed to talk."

"We do."

"Then talk."

She looked around.

"Not here."

"Why not?"

"My family is inside."

"Since when do you care?"

She looked hurt.

"Since always."

I regretted it immediately.

"Tracy—"

"No."

She folded her arms.

"You don't get to accuse me of things because you're angry about your parents."

"I didn't accuse you."

"You did."

"I asked who he was."

"And I told you."

I looked toward the house.

"Is there something going on?"

Her eyes widened.

"Between me and him?"

I didn't answer.

She laughed softly.

"Wow."

"What's funny?"

"You."

I felt my jaw tighten.

"You came here angry because your family wants you to marry someone else, and now you're questioning me because you saw me talking to a man."

"I wasn't questioning you."

"You were."

"Fine."

I stepped closer.

"Maybe I was."

She looked at me.

Then her expression softened.

"Issa."

"What?"

"Do you trust me?"

I didn't answer quickly enough.

She noticed.

Her eyes filled with disappointment.

"I thought you did."

"I do."

"Then stop looking for reasons not to."

She turned away.

I reached for her hand.

"I'm sorry."

She didn't pull away.

I held it.

"You're right."

She looked at me.

"I was angry."

"At me?"

"No."

"Then who?"

"My father."

"And Binta?"

I looked away.

"Her too."

"Why?"

"Because she exists."

Tracy stared at me.

Then she laughed.

"That's cruel."

"I know."

"She hasn't done anything to you."

"I know."

"Then don't punish her for something she didn't choose."

I looked at Tracy.

"Why are you defending her?"

"Because she is innocent."

Something about the answer bothered me.

"How do you know?"

She hesitated.

Only for a moment.

But again, I noticed.

"Because I know what it's like to have someone else make decisions for you."

I studied her.

"What's really going on?"

"Nothing."

"Tracy."

"Nothing, Issa."

She leaned closer.

"I love you."

The words softened me.

They always did.

"I love you too."

She smiled.

Then she kissed me.

It wasn't the kind of kiss that solved everything.

It was the kind that made me forget the questions.

For a few minutes, I forgot Binta.

Forgot my father.

Forgot the strange message.

Forgot the man standing behind the house.

I forgot everything except Tracy.

And that was exactly what she wanted.

The next morning, I woke up to another message.

Unknown: You were warned.

I sat up.

This time, I didn't delete it.

I took a screenshot.

Then I called the number.

It rang once.

Twice.

Three times.

Someone answered.

They didn't speak.

"Who is this?"

Silence.

"Why are you telling me to stay away from Trina?"

Nothing.

"Who are you?"

The call ended.

I stared at the screen.

Then another message arrived.

Ask your father what happened at Gold Creek.

My heart stopped.

Gold Creek.

Tracy's family.

I immediately called my father.

No answer.

I called again.

Nothing.

I got dressed.

My father's clinic was already busy when I arrived.

Patients sat along the corridor.

A woman held a sleeping child.

An elderly man sat with his head against the wall.

A young boy was coughing beside his mother.

I searched for my father.

He wasn't there.

I found one of the nurses.

"Where is Dr. Bah?"

She looked at me.

"He hasn't arrived."

"Did he call?"

"No."

I checked my phone.

Nothing.

I called him again.

Still nothing.

Something felt wrong.

I went outside.

A few minutes later, his car appeared.

I watched him park.

He stepped out slowly.

Too slowly.

His face was pale.

He looked exhausted.

"Father."

He stopped.

"You came here?"

"I called you."

"I was busy."

"Where?"

He ignored the question.

"Why are you here?"

"I need to ask you something."

"Not now."

"It is about Gold Creek."

His expression changed.

Just slightly.

But enough.

"Who told you about Gold Creek?"

"Answer me."

"Who told you?"

"I received a message."

His eyes narrowed.

"What message?"

I showed him.

He read it.

For several seconds, he said nothing.

Then he looked at me.

"Delete the number."

"Why?"

"Because whoever sent that message wants you to become involved in something you don't understand."

"Then explain it."

"Not here."

"Where?"

He looked around.

"Get in the car."

Again.

The car.

Always the car.

We drove.

Neither of us spoke.

Finally, he stopped near a quiet roadside.

He turned off the engine.

"Years ago," he said, "before you were born, I worked with a man."

"Who?"

"Musa Kamara."

I stared at him.

"Binta's father?"

"Yes."

"What did you do together?"

"We were young."

"That's not an answer."

"We were trying to build something."

"What?"

"A medical project."

I frowned.

"What kind?"

"A clinic."

"And Gold Creek?"

My father looked through the windshield.

"Gold Creek was involved."

"How?"

He didn't answer.

"Father."

He sighed.

"There was money."

"Whose?"

"Several people's."

"Did something happen?"

He closed his eyes.

"Yes."

"What?"

"People lost everything."

I stared at him.

"Because of Gold Creek?"

"Not exactly."

"Then because of what?"

He looked at me.

"Because people trusted the wrong person."

"Who?"

He shook his head.

"I can't tell you."

"Why?"

"Because some people are still alive."

I felt a chill.

"Are you saying someone could hurt us?"

He didn't answer.

"Father."

He started the engine.

"Forget what I said."

"How can I forget that?"

"You will."

"No."

He looked at me.

"You have your mother. You have your work. You have your life. Leave the past alone."

"But Binta is part of it."

He gripped the steering wheel.

"That is exactly why you must be careful."

I stared at him.

"Why did you promise her father my marriage?"

He said nothing.

"Why me?"

Silence.

"Why Binta?"

His voice was barely audible.

"Because I owe him."

"That isn't enough."

He looked at me.

"You will understand one day."

"When?"

He smiled sadly.

"Hopefully never."

Three days passed.

No more messages.

No more warnings.

I almost convinced myself it had all been a misunderstanding.

Then Trina called.

"Where are you?"

"Home."

"Come see me."

"Why?"

"Because I want to."

I smiled.

"When?"

"Now."

I hesitated.

"I have somewhere to be."

"Where?"

I didn't answer.

She laughed.

"You're going to see Tracy."

I frowned.

"How did you know?"

"Because you always go to Tracy."

There was something in her voice.

Jealousy.

I should have ended the call.

Instead, I asked:

"Do you miss me?"

Silence.

Then:

"No."

I smiled.

"You're lying."

"Come and find out."

She ended the call.

I sat there staring at my phone.

I knew it was a bad idea.

I knew exactly where this was going.

But I went anyway.

Trina was waiting in the garden.

She looked beautiful.

She always did.

But that evening, there was something different about her.

She looked tired.

"You came."

"You called."

"I didn't think you would."

"Why?"

She shrugged.

"Because of Tracy."

I looked at her.

"What about her?"

"You love her."

"Yes."

She nodded.

"Then why are you here?"

I didn't answer.

She walked toward me.

"That's what I thought."

I should have stepped away.

Instead, I stayed.

"Trina."

"What?"

"This isn't a good idea."

"I know."

"You know I love someone else."

"I know."

"Then why are you doing this?"

She looked into my eyes.

"Because I don't want to keep pretending I don't care about you."

My heart beat faster.

"You barely know me."

"Neither did you when you decided you hated me."

"I never said I hated you."

"You called me spoiled."

"You are."

She smiled.

"There."

"What?"

"That's why."

"Why what?"

"You never treat me like everyone else does."

I stared at her.

"Because everyone else is afraid of you?"

"Maybe."

She stepped closer.

"You're not."

"No."

"And I like that."

I swallowed.

"Trina..."

She touched my hand.

I didn't move.

She looked at me.

I looked at her.

And for one terrible moment, I forgot Tracy.

I forgot Binta.

I forgot everything.

Then I stepped back.

"No."

Her face fell.

"I'm sorry."

She nodded.

"Go."

I hesitated.

"Trina."

"Go see your Tracy."

I walked away.

But I didn't feel victorious.

I felt guilty.

Because the truth was becoming impossible to ignore.

I was beginning to want Trina.

And wanting her frightened me more than any anonymous message ever could.

That night, my father didn't come home.

At first, I wasn't worried.

Doctors worked late.

It happened.

Then midnight came.

One o'clock.

Two.

My mother was sitting awake in the living room.

I found her staring at her phone.

"Did Dad call?"

She shook her head.

"Nothing."

I called him.

His phone was off.

I called the clinic.

No one answered.

At 3:17 a.m., a car stopped outside.

I heard the gate open.

My mother stood.

I ran outside.

A stranger stepped out of the vehicle.

He looked at me.

"Are you Issa?"

"Yes."

His face was grim.

"Your father was involved in an accident."

Everything inside me stopped.

My mother screamed.

I don't remember getting into the car.

I don't remember the drive.

I only remember the hospital lights.

The smell of antiseptic.

The nurses moving quickly.

A doctor speaking to us.

"He's alive."

My mother collapsed into a chair.

I couldn't breathe.

"Can I see him?"

"Not yet."

"Please."

"We're doing everything we can."

I stood outside the emergency room.

My hands were shaking.

Then I noticed something.

A man stood at the end of the corridor.

Watching me.

He was dressed in black.

I had never seen him before.

Our eyes met.

He turned.

I followed him.

"Hey!"

He walked faster.

I ran.

He disappeared through the exit.

I reached the door.

Nobody.

Only the empty parking lot.

Then my phone vibrated.

Another message.

I looked down.

Unknown: Your father should have told you the truth.

I stared at the screen.

Then another message appeared.

Unknown: Ask him who Binta's mother really was.

My blood went cold.

I looked back toward the emergency room.

Binta's mother?

What did she have to do with my father?

What did she have to do with Gold Creek?

And why did someone want me to know?

Before I could think, a nurse rushed toward me.

"Are you Issa?"

"Yes."

"You need to come quickly."

My heart stopped.

"What happened?"

She looked at me with tears in her eyes.

"The doctor wants your family there."

I ran.

And for the first time in my life, I understood that some secrets don't wait for you to be ready.

They simply arrive.

And sometimes, by the time you discover the truth...

you have already lost the person who could have explained it.