Chapter 6
1668 Words
She wented to sleep but she couldn't.
She lay in the hotel bed, staring at the ceiling. The fan spun slowly. The city hummed outside. The photograph of her grandfather was in her hands. She'd been holding it all night. His face. Young. Smiling. She didn't remember him smiling.
Jake was awake too. He was sitting by the window, his back against the wall. He was watching her.
"Ife," he said. "You need to sleep."
"I can't."
"You've been holding that photograph all night."
"I know."
"What are you going to do?"
She sat up. She looked at him.
"I need to find the proof," she said. "Amara hid it somewhere."
"Where?"
"I don't know. But I need to find it."
---
She went back to Michael's house the next morning.
The sun was hot. The dust was thick. She knocked on the blue door. He opened it. He looked tired. He looked like he hadn't slept.
"I need to know where Amara hid the proof," she said.
He was quiet for a long time.
"She used to go to a place," he said. "An abandoned building. She said it was the only place she could think."
"Where is it?"
He handed her a key. Small. Rusted.
"She trusted this place," he said. "She said if anything happened to her, the truth would be there."
---
She was walking back to the hotel when she heard footsteps behind her.
She turned.
Temi was standing there.
"Ife," she said. "Wait."
Ife stopped. She looked at her. Temi's eyes were red. Her hands were trembling. She looked like she hadn't slept.
"What are you doing here?" Ife asked.
"I followed you."
"Why?"
Temi was quiet for a moment. Then she said: "I want to help you. I want to find justice for Amara."
Ife stared at her.
"You've been following me?"
"I know I should have told you. I know it looks bad. But I couldn't just sit there and do nothing. She was my best friend."
Temi's voice cracked.
"I can't let them get away with it," she said. "Please. Let me help."
Ife looked at her for a long time. She saw the fear in her eyes. She saw the grief. She saw the guilt.
"Okay," she said.
---
They walked to the abandoned building.
It was old. The windows were broken. The doors were hanging off their hinges. The walls were covered in years of dirt and neglect.
Ife stood at the entrance. She could feel the weight of the place pressing down on her. The key was cold in her hand.
She walked inside.
The air was thick. She could taste dust on her tongue. She could smell decay. She could feel the weight of the silence.
Jake was behind her. Temi was behind him.
She searched.
She found a box hidden in the corner. It was covered in dust. The key fit the lock. She opened it.
Inside were documents. Photographs. Letters.
She pulled out the first document. It was a land deed. The Cross family's name was on it.
She pulled out another. A contract. Signed by Nathan Cross.
She pulled out a letter. Handwritten. It said: "The farmer has been dealt with. The land is yours."
She read it again. She read it a third time.
"Dealt with."
Temi was standing behind her. She was quiet. She was watching the door.
"Ife," she said. "Someone's here."
Ife turned. She looked at the entrance. A figure was standing there. A man. Tall. Dark suit. His face was hidden in shadow.
She grabbed the box. She grabbed Jake's hand.
"Run," she said.
---
They ran.
They didn't look back.
They reached the hotel. They locked the door. They leaned against it, breathing hard.
Ife looked at the box in her hands. She had the proof. She had everything.
Temi was standing by the window. She was looking out at the street.
"Ife," she said. "That man. I think I know him."
"Who is he?"
"I think he works for the Cross family."
---
The proof was spread across the bed like a crime scene she didn't know how to read.
Photographs. Documents. The confession letter, yellowed at the edges, the handwriting neat and careful. "The farmer has been dealt with. The body has been buried. No one will find it."
Ife sat on the edge of the mattress, her knees drawn up, her bare feet pressed against the thin hotel sheets. She'd been sitting like this for hours. She couldn't remember the last time she'd moved.
The room smelled like dust and something metallic she couldn't name. The fan spun overhead, clicking with each rotation. A car horn blared somewhere outside. She heard it, but she didn't register it.
She picked up the confession again. The paper was rough beneath her fingers. She could feel the indentations of the pen. She could feel the weight of what she was holding. A man's life. A man's death. A man's secret, finally exposed.
Jake was sitting on the floor, his back against the wall. She could hear his breathing, slow and steady. She could feel his eyes on her, but she didn't look up.
"I can't stop looking at it," she said.
"I know."
She heard the rustle of fabric as he shifted. She heard his feet on the floor. He was moving closer. He sat on the bed beside her, close enough that she could feel the warmth of his shoulder.
"I keep thinking about Amara," she said. "The way she must have felt when she found it. The way she must have known what it meant."
"She knew it was dangerous."
"She knew they'd kill her."
Her voice was flat. She couldn't feel anything. She didn't know if she wanted to.
"Are you scared?" he asked.
She looked at him. His face was tired. His eyes were steady.
"I'm terrified."
"Me too."
---
There was a knock on the door.
Ife felt her heart jump. She pressed the papers together, her fingers trembling. She looked at Jake. He was already standing. He walked to the door. He looked through the peephole. He turned to her.
"It's Temi."
She felt something loosen in her chest. She didn't know why. She still didn't trust Temi completely. But she was grateful for the interruption.
She stood up. She walked to the door. She opened it.
Temi was standing there. Her face was pale. Her hands were holding a plastic bag. The smell of food drifted out. Stew and rice and something else she couldn't name.
"I brought you something to eat," Temi said. "You haven't eaten all day."
Ife stepped aside. "Thank you."
Temi walked in. Her eyes moved to the bed. The papers were still spread across it. She didn't say anything. But she looked. She looked for too long.
"Have you decided what to do?" Temi asked.
She set the bag on the table. Her hands were shaking. She pressed them together to stop them. It didn't work.
"I don't know yet."
"You should be careful. They're watching."
"I know."
"Who are you going to tell?"
Ife looked at her. The question was too sharp. Too direct.
"I don't know."
"You need to trust someone. Someone who can help you."
"I know."
Temi looked at her. Her eyes were searching. "I just don't want you to end up like Amara."
Ife felt the words press against her chest. She pressed her hand against her stomach. The food was still in the bag. She could smell it. She couldn't eat it.
"I won't."
---
After Titi left, Jake stood up.
He walked to the table. He opened the bag. He looked at the food. He didn't touch it.
"Did you notice that?" he asked.
"Notice what?"
"She asked who you were going to tell."
"She's just worried."
"Maybe."
He looked at her. His face was calm. His hands were still. But she could see the fear in his eyes. The kind of fear that made people run. The kind of fear that made people give up.
"Ife," he said. "I'm scared."
She looked at him. His hands were still. His eyes were steady. But she could see the fear in them. The kind of fear that made people run.
She didn't know how to answer. She didn't know what to say. So she didn't say anything.
---
They sat on the bed. The proof was still spread around them.
She picked up the photograph. Her grandfather. Young. Smiling. She looked at his face. She looked at his eyes. She didn't know what she was looking for.
"I remember something," she said.
"What?"
"Amara. The last time we spoke. She said something. I didn't understand it then."
She looked at him.
"She said: 'You're always running, Ife. One day, you'll have to stop.'"
She set the photograph down.
"I didn't know what she meant. But I think I do now."
Jake reached for her hand. She let him hold it.
"Then stop," he said.
"I can't."
"You can."
"Jake—"
"You can. You're the strongest person I know. You can do this."
She looked at him. His face was calm. His voice was steady.
"I'm going to call Adebayo," she said.
"Who?"
"A journalist. He lost his brother to the Cross family. He'll help."
She picked up her phone. She found the number. She called.
He answered.
"Hello?"
"Mr. Adebayo? My name is Ife. I'm Amara's cousin."
He was quiet for a moment.
"I know who you are," he said.
"Amara told me about you. She said you were investigating the Cross family."
"I was. I still am."
"I have proof. I found it. It's enough to expose them."
He was quiet again. She heard him breathing.
"Meet me," he said. "Tomorrow. The café on Balogun Street. 10 a.m."
She hung up. She looked at Jake.
"He said yes," she said.
She didn't feel relief. She felt the weight of what she was about to do.
---
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