For The Pain You Caused

The Man Who Knew

She looked at the letter in my hand.

Not here.

Why?

Because if someone is watching us, we shouldn't talk about it here.

I stared at her.

Where?

She hesitated.

There's somewhere Dad used to go.

Where?

An old house in Lekki.

My stomach tightened.

What old house?

I've never taken you there.

Why?

Because Dad told me never to.

I looked at the letter.

What does that place have to do with this?

I don't know.

Then why are we going?

Because the last time I saw Dad alive...

Her voice broke.

He gave me a key.

I stared at her.

What key?

She reached into her bag.

Slowly, she pulled out a small brass key.

It looked old.

Very old.

I stared at it.

What does it open?

She shook her head.

I don't know.

I looked at her.

Then how do you know it's important?

Because Dad told me something before he died.

What?

She closed her fingers around the key.

He said that if Damian ever came back...

She stopped.

I waited.

He said I should take you to the house.

My heart began to race.

Why?

She looked directly at me.

Because that's where he hid the truth.

---

We left twenty minutes later.

Neither of us spoke during the drive.

The city moved around us, but I barely noticed it.

My father's letter sat inside my bag.

The key sat in Nia's hand.

And somewhere ahead of us was a house my father had apparently hidden from me.

A house Damian knew about.

A photograph Damian refused to show me.

A man named Victor.

An unknown person watching me.

And a truth that everyone seemed terrified I would discover.

As we turned into a quieter part of Lekki, Nia slowed down.

That's it.

I looked ahead.

The house was old.

Not abandoned.

But forgotten.

Tall walls surrounded it.

The gate was rusted.

The garden had grown wild.

I stared at it.

I've never seen this place.

I know.

We got out of the car.

Nia unlocked the gate with the brass key.

It opened with a long metallic creak.

I followed her inside.

The air smelled like dust and rain.

We walked toward the front door.

Nia inserted the key again.

The lock clicked.

The door opened.

Darkness greeted us.

I switched on my phone flashlight.

Wait.

Nia grabbed my arm.

What?

She pointed toward the floor.

There was dust everywhere.

Except for one place.

A clear trail of footprints.

Fresh footprints.

Leading from the door...

toward the hallway.

My heart stopped.

Nia.

I see them.

Someone had been here.

Recently.

She squeezed my hand.

Maybe we should leave.

Before I could answer, something came from inside the house.

A soft sound.

Like something hitting the floor.

Then silence.

We looked at each other.

I whispered,

Did you hear that?

Nia nodded.

Another sound.

Closer this time.

Then a man's voice came from the darkness.

You're late.

My entire body went cold.

Nia grabbed my arm.

The flashlight in my hand trembled.

A figure slowly stepped into the faint light.

And I knew him.

Not because I had met him.

But because I had seen his photograph.

The photograph Damian had refused to show me.

The man looked at me.

Then smiled.

Your father was right.

I couldn't breathe.

He always knew you'd come looking eventually.

And suddenly, I understood something.

The person we had been searching for...

had been waiting for us to arrive.

---

Chapter 8 — The Man Who Knew

For a few seconds, nobody moved.

The man stood in the doorway with his hands loosely at his sides, as though he had been waiting for us without any concern about what would happen when we finally arrived.

The rain outside had stopped, but water still dripped from the roof in slow, deliberate intervals.

Drop.

Drop.

Drop.

I could hear my own breathing.

Nia stepped in front of me.

Who are you?

The man looked at her first.

You know who I am.

Nia did not move.

No. I do not.

His eyes shifted to me.

Your father told me you would say that.

Something cold travelled down my spine.

My father?

The man nodded.

He knew you would come here one day. He only did not know how long it would take.

I stared at him.

He was older than Damian. Maybe in his late fifties. His hair was almost completely grey, but his face was calm and strangely familiar.

Not familiar in the way Damian was.

This was different.

Like seeing a face from a photograph you had forgotten existed.

How did you know my father? I asked.

The man looked toward the hallway.

Come inside.

Nia immediately shook her head.

We are not going anywhere with you.

A faint smile touched his lips.

Your sister has always been suspicious.

You know me?

I know both of you.

He walked slowly into the house.

Nia grabbed my wrist.

Do not follow him.

But my feet were already moving.

I stepped inside.

The smell hit me first.

Dust.

Old wood.

And something else.

Something familiar.

My father used to wear a particular aftershave. It had been years since I had smelled it, but suddenly it seemed to fill the room.

I stopped.

My chest tightened.

My father had been here.

Not recently.

But somehow, the house still carried pieces of him.

The man noticed my reaction.

He used to sit there.

He pointed toward an old armchair near the window.

Every evening.

Same chair. Same time.

I swallowed.

Who are you?

He pulled out another chair and sat down.

My name is Samuel Adebayo.

Nia went completely still.

I turned to her.

You know him.

She did not answer.

Nia?

Her face had lost its color.

I know the name.

Samuel looked at her.

Your father told you never to trust a man simply because he knows your name.

Nia finally spoke.

You were there.

Samuel nodded.

The night your father died.

My heart stopped.

What?

Nia looked at me.

Amara, please

No.

I stepped closer to Samuel.

You were there the night my father died?

Yes.

At the hospital?

Yes.

Then why have I never seen you?

Because your father asked me to stay away from you.

My throat tightened.

Why?

Samuel leaned forward.

Because if Victor Dampson discovered that I was still protecting his family, he would have finished what he started.

The name hit me like a slap.

Victor.

I looked at Nia.

She looked away.

Samuel noticed.

So Damian finally told you about him.

I felt anger rise inside me.

You know Damian too?

Samuel gave a quiet laugh.

Everybody in this story knows Damian.

Except you.

The words hurt because they were true.

For three years, I had believed I knew the story.

Damian left me.

My father had warned him.

Damian obeyed.

That was supposed to be the beginning and the end of it.

But every answer had only opened another door.

And behind every door was another person who seemed to know more about my life than I did.

What does Victor want with me? I asked.

Samuel did not answer immediately.

Instead, he looked at Nia.

What did Damian show you?

Nothing.

The answer came too quickly.

Samuel smiled.

Still protecting him.

Nia's jaw tightened.

I am protecting my sister.

No.

Samuel's voice remained calm.

You are protecting the truth from her.

Silence filled the room.

I turned toward Nia.

What is he talking about?

She looked at me.

Amara

Tell me.

Her eyes became wet.

I have been trying to protect you.

From what?

From the same thing our father was trying to protect you from.

I laughed bitterly.

Everyone keeps saying that.

Protecting me.

Saving me.

Keeping me safe.

But nobody thinks I deserve to know what I am being protected from.

Samuel stood.

Your father made a mistake.

I stared at him.

What mistake?

He trusted the wrong person.

Who?

Samuel walked toward an old wooden cabinet.

He opened one of the drawers.

For a moment, I thought he would pull out another letter.

Instead, he took out a small black envelope.

He held it between two fingers.

Your father left this with me.

My heart began pounding.

For me?

He nodded.

He told me to give it to you when you came looking for answers.

I reached for it.

Samuel pulled it back.

Not yet.

Why?

Because there is something you need to understand first.

I stared at him.

He looked directly into my eyes.

The night your father died was not the night everything began.

It was the night everything was covered up.

A chill moved through me.

What was covered up?

Samuel looked toward the window.

Your father had evidence.

Evidence against Victor?

Partly.

Then what?

Evidence against someone closer to you.

My breathing stopped.

Nia whispered his name.

Samuel.

He looked at her.

It is time.

Nia shook her head.

No.

Samuel turned back to me.

Your father did not die knowing who betrayed him.

He died knowing he had been betrayed.

My mind raced.

Who betrayed him?

Samuel slowly placed the envelope on the table.

Open it.

My hands trembled as I picked it up.

There was no name on the front.

Only one sentence written in my father's handwriting.

If you are reading this, then the person I feared is already close to you.

I stared at the words.

Close to me.

My fingers went numb.

Who?

Samuel said nothing.

I opened the envelope.

Inside was a photograph.

I pulled it out.

At first, I did not understand what I was looking at.

It was an old photograph taken outside a building.

My father stood on one side.

Samuel was beside him.

And behind them—

I stopped breathing.

There was Damian.

Much younger.

Maybe twenty-one.

Maybe twenty-two.

But that was not what frightened me.

It was the man standing beside him.

Victor Hale.

I looked at Samuel.

Why is Damian in this photograph?

Samuel's expression changed for the first time.

Because your father did not meet Damian three years ago.

My heart began to pound.

He met him long before that.

I stared at the photograph.

How long?

Samuel's eyes darkened.

Before you ever knew his name.

The room suddenly felt too small.

I looked at Nia.

She was crying silently.

You knew?

She wiped her cheek.

Not everything.

But you knew he knew Dad.

Yes.

For how long?

Nia looked down.

Since the beginning.

The photograph slipped slightly from my fingers.

The beginning of what?

Neither of them answered.

Then my phone rang.

The sound cut through the room.

I looked at the screen.

Unknown number.

Again.

I answered.

Hello?

For several seconds, there was only silence.

Then a man's voice came through.

Deep.

Calm.

Familiar.

You should not have opened that envelope.

My blood ran cold.

Who is this?

A soft laugh.

You already know.

The call ended.

I stared at the screen.

Samuel was watching me.

What did he say?

I slowly lowered the phone.

He said I already know him.

Samuel's face hardened.

Then we have less time than I thought.

Nia stood.

What does that mean?

Samuel walked toward the door and locked it.

It means Victor knows she has the photograph.

The sound of the lock clicking into place seemed louder than it should have been.

I looked at the photograph again.

Damian.

Victor.

My father.

Together.

Years before Damian ever told me he loved me.

Years before he broke my heart.

And suddenly, the question was no longer why Damian left me.

It was something much worse.

Why had Damian entered my life in the first place?

Because if my father had known him before I did...

Then maybe I had never met Damian by accident.

Maybe my entire love story had been part of a story someone else started long before I knew I was in it.