Barrister Ada

Chapter 11: The Man Returns

Chapter 11: The Man Returns

The trio was formed.

Aunty inside.

Uncle Emeka outside.

Me in the middle.

For the first time since I had run away from home, I didn't feel like I was facing the world completely alone.

It wasn't that the fear disappeared.

It didn't.

But fear was different when you had people standing beside you.

Aunty Ngozi checked on me every day.

Sometimes she came to the school.

Sometimes she called.

Sometimes she simply sent a message asking one question:

Are you safe?

I always answered.

Yes, Aunty.

Uncle Emeka kept his promise too.

He worked his night shifts around Wuse Park, but he made sure someone was always paying attention to the area around the school.

I didn't know exactly how he did it.

I didn't ask too many questions.

I only knew that when Aunty said she needed eyes outside, Uncle had become those eyes.

Mrs. Ade remained involved.

She watched me closely without making me feel like a prisoner.

And Tolu...

Tolu was simply Tolu.

She made me laugh when I wanted to cry.

She shared her food when I was hungry.

She sat beside me when I was quiet.

For one week, the school felt normal again.

I almost forgot about the envelopes.

Almost.

I studied.

I attended classes.

I continued my beadwork during the weekends.

I worked toward keeping my seventy percent.

Life began to settle.

Then, two weeks later, on a Wednesday evening, everything changed again.

Prep had just ended.

The sun was already disappearing behind the buildings.

Tolu and I were walking back toward the hostel.

We usually took the path behind the science block because it was faster.

That evening, the path was unusually quiet.

No students were walking behind us.

No teachers.

No noise from the classrooms.

Only the sound of our shoes against the ground.

Tolu was telling me something about our Chemistry teacher.

I was barely listening.

Then I saw him.

My feet stopped moving.

Tolu took another step before realizing I had stopped.

"What?"

I couldn't speak.

I stared ahead.

There was a man standing near the fence.

Cap.

Dark glasses.

Hands in his pockets.

My heart dropped into my stomach.

It was him.

The man from Wuse Market.

The man who had been asking about me.

The man whose shadow had followed the envelopes.

He was standing at the edge of the school.

Not inside.

Not outside.

Right at the fence.

Right where the two worlds met.

My body went cold.

"Ada?"

I couldn't answer.

Tolu followed my gaze.

Her fingers immediately tightened around mine.

"Oh."

Her voice was barely a whisper.

The man didn't move.

He didn't call my name.

He didn't wave.

He simply watched us.

I felt every muscle in my body tense.

"Don't run," Tolu whispered.

I looked at her.

"Why?"

"If you run, he might follow."

My breathing became shallow.

The man remained still.

He wasn't coming closer.

He wasn't leaving either.

He was simply standing there.

Watching.

My mind raced.

Was this the same man Uncle Emeka had seen?

Was this the person who sent the photograph?

The note?

The leaf?

I wanted to ask him.

I wanted to scream at him.

I wanted to run straight to Mrs. Ade.

But I couldn't move.

Then the man slowly lifted one hand.

My heart jumped.

For a moment, I thought he was going to point at me.

Or wave.

Or perhaps reveal his face.

Instead, he dropped something.

It hit the ground with a soft sound.

A small stone.

Then he turned.

He walked away.

Not hurriedly.

Not slowly.

Just calmly.

He passed through the opening near the fence and disappeared into the darkness outside the school.

Tolu and I stood frozen.

"Did you see that?"

I nodded.

"He left something."

"I saw."

Neither of us moved toward it.

The stone lay exactly where he had dropped it.

I remembered Aunty's warning.

Don't investigate it yourself.

So I didn't.

"Let's go," Tolu whispered.

I nodded.

We walked quickly toward the hostel.

Neither of us spoke.

My heart didn't slow down until we reached the hostel gate.

That night, I barely slept.

Every time I closed my eyes, I saw him.

Cap.

Dark glasses.

Hands in his pockets.

Standing by the fence.

And then the stone.

Why a stone?

What did it mean?

Was it another message?

Another warning?

Or was he simply trying to prove that he could come close whenever he wanted?

I didn't know.

But I knew what I had to do.

Tell Aunty.

First thing.

Thursday morning, before assembly, I went straight to her.

"Aunty."

She looked at my face.

"What happened?"

"He came."

Her expression changed immediately.

"Who?"

"The man."

She stood.

"Tell me everything."

I explained.

The fence.

The cap.

The dark glasses.

The stone.

Aunty listened without interrupting.

When I finished, she took my hand.

"We're going to Mrs. Ade."

She didn't ask me to investigate.

She didn't tell me to keep quiet.

She took me straight to the administration block.

Mrs. Ade was already there.

When she heard what happened, her face became serious.

"Did he speak to you?"

"No, ma."

"Did he come inside?"

"No."

"Did you approach him?"

"No."

Mrs. Ade nodded.

"Good."

Aunty picked up her phone.

"Call Uncle Emeka."

She did.

He answered almost immediately.

"Emeka."

"It's Ngozi."

His voice changed when he heard her tone.

"What happened?"

"The man returned."

There was silence.

"Where?"

"At the school fence."

"I'll be there."

By 3 p.m., Uncle Emeka was at the gate.

The three of us stood at the same fence.

The place where I had seen the man.

The place where he had stood watching me.

Aunty bent down.

She picked up the stone.

It was smooth.

Black.

Small enough to fit inside her palm.

She turned it over.

Then stopped.

"Ada."

I looked at her.

"Come here."

I walked closer.

Under where the stone had been lying was another leaf.

My stomach tightened.

I knew it immediately.

The same brown color.

The same dry edges.

The same shape.

Another iroko leaf.

Nobody spoke.

Uncle Emeka stared at it.

Then he looked toward the road outside the school.

His jaw tightened.

"He's telling us he can still reach."

Aunty looked at him.

"Even with me watching the school."

He nodded.

"Even with me watching the park."

He looked at the leaf.

"Even with all of us paying attention."

A cold feeling ran through me.

I stared at the fence.

The man hadn't needed to enter the school.

He didn't need to.

He had stood outside and made sure I saw him.

Then he left a message.

A stone.

And a leaf.

Aunty looked at me.

"But this time, we saw him together."

I looked at her.

She was right.

Before, I had seen the consequences alone.

The envelope.

The locker.

The leaf.

The fear.

This time, there were witnesses.

Uncle Emeka nodded.

"Next time, he won't be alone."

He looked at Aunty.

"We won't be either."

For the first time, Uncle Emeka placed his hand on my shoulder.

His palm was warm.

"You are your mother's daughter, Ada."

I looked at him.

"And we don't leave our own."

Something inside me broke.

Not from sadness.

From relief.

I had spent so long believing that I had nobody.

My mother was gone.

My father had disappeared.

I had run away with nothing but fear and a school dream.

I had thought family was something I had lost.

But now I understood.

Maybe family wasn't only the people who were supposed to stay.

Maybe family was also the people who chose to show up.

Uncle Emeka had shown up.

Aunty Ngozi had shown up.

Tolu had shown up.

Mrs. Ade had shown up.

People I hadn't expected were standing beside me.

And suddenly, I wasn't just Ada who had run from home.

I was Ada who had people waiting for her.

That evening, I returned to the hostel.

I kept the stone.

Aunty had wanted to take it, but I asked to keep it for the night.

I didn't know why.

Maybe because I wanted to prove to myself that it no longer frightened me.

I placed it under my pillow.

Next to my mother's photograph.

The photograph was faded.

The stone was black.

Two objects from two different parts of my life.

One reminded me of where I came from.

The other reminded me that someone was still trying to reach me.

I opened my notebook.

I began to write.

First: The man came back.

I stopped.

Then:

Second: He left a stone and a leaf.

I looked at the stone.

Then I wrote:

Third: The trio saw him.

I paused before adding another thought.

Mother's family showed up.

My pen moved slowly.

Father's family never did.

I stared at that sentence.

It hurt.

But it was true.

No one from my father's side had come looking for me.

No one had asked where I was.

No one had appeared at the shelter.

No one had stood beside me at the school gate.

But my mother's family had.

Uncle Emeka had.

Aunty Ngozi had.

I knew which side I was on now.

I closed my notebook.

Outside, someone laughed in the corridor.

The sound of footsteps passed my door.

Normal sounds.

Safe sounds.

But I still reached beneath my pillow.

My fingers touched the stone.

It was cold.

The man thought he was scaring me.

Maybe he wanted me to remember that he could reach me.

Maybe he wanted me to feel powerless.

But he had made one mistake.

He had shown himself.

And by showing himself, he had given us something we didn't have before.

A face.

A location.

A pattern.

A reason to pay attention.

He thought he was frightening me.

But all he had done was wake the three of us up.