My True Identity

Chapter 3

CHAPTER 3

A week after his birthday, Troy finally held his passport in his hands. He opened it slowly and stared at the visa stamped inside. For days, the process had tested his patience. His change of name after relocating to Canada had created complications with some of his documents. There had been appointments, corrections, questions, and several rounds of verification. At one point, Troy had wondered whether the journey was becoming difficult for a reason. But now, the passport was finally in his hands. He closed it. He wasn't going back for business, nor for a holiday. He was going back for answers. For years, he had accepted the story he was given about his childhood. He had accepted that Mr. and Mrs. Peter were his parents. He had accepted that the past was something he could live without understanding. But after the detective's discovery, he could no longer pretend. There were missing pieces in his history. Names that didn't fit. Records that raised questions. And one place kept appearing in the information he had gathered.

"St. Mary's Hospital, Ezifite." That was where he would begin.

A week after his birthday and only days after ending his relationship with Vanessa—Troy boarded a flight to Nigeria. During the journey, he barely slept. He kept opening the detective's file and reading the same information over and over again. The words seemed ordinary, but together they represented the biggest unanswered question of his life.

"Who was he? And why had his real identity been hidden from him?"

Hours later, the plane landed in Nigeria. The moment Troy stepped out of the airport, something inside him changed. The familiar sounds. The voices. The movement of people. The atmosphere. Even the air seemed to carry memories from a life he had almost forgotten. He adjusted his luggage and looked around.

“Troy?”

He stopped. The voice came from behind him. For a second, he thought he had imagined it. He slowly turned. A woman stood several steps away. Troy's heart skipped. "Ella." His childhood friend. The girl who had once known him better than almost anyone. The person he had spent years trying to forget.

"What was she doing here?"

Ella's face immediately brightened.

“Troy!”

She hurried toward him.

“So you are still alive? Wow! All thanks to God. Longest time! I thought I would never see you again.”

Troy stared at her. He remembered everything. The friendship. The laughter. The arguments. The painful ending. He remembered her. But something told him that admitting it now would be a mistake. He forced his expression to remain calm.

“I'm sorry,” he said. “Do I know you?”

Ella stopped. The smile disappeared from her face.

“What?”

“I don't think we've met before.”

She stared at him as though trying to determine whether he was joking.

“You don't recognize me?”

Troy shook his head.

“No.”

Ella looked genuinely hurt. Then her expression softened.

“I heard about your parents' death,” she said quietly. “I'm sorry, Troy. Such is life. It's something we all have to face someday.”

Troy's eyes narrowed.

«His parents. Which parents was she talking about? Mr. and Mrs. Peter? Or someone else?»

“How did you know?” Troy asked.

Ella looked confused.

“Know what?”

“That my parents died.”

She hesitated.

“I heard about it a long time ago.”

“From whom?”

Ella's eyes shifted away.

“I don't remember.”

Troy watched her carefully. She was hiding something, and he could feel it.

“Please don't be offended,” he said. “Who are you?”

Ella sighed.

“Okay.”

She looked directly into his eyes.

“I'm Ella. Your childhood friend.”

Troy's heart tightened. He already knew.

“Ella…”

She nodded.

“Yes. Ella.”

For a moment, neither of them spoke. Then Ella glanced at her phone.

“Oh, I'm already late. I'm traveling to the United States by 2 p.m., and it's almost 1:40.”

She picked up her bag.

“I have to go.”

Troy watched her turn away. Something inside him refused to let her leave.

“Wait.”

Ella turned.

“Can I have your number?”

She frowned.

“My number?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“So I can reach you sometime.”

Ella studied him for several seconds. Then she reluctantly gave him her number, and Troy saved it. He looked at the name on his screen. Memories rushed back. He remembered how close they had once been. He remembered how everything between them had fallen apart. And he remembered the promise he had made to himself never to reopen that chapter. Yet here she was. Standing in front of him. On the exact day he had returned to Nigeria to uncover the truth about his past.

"Coincidence?"

Maybe, but Troy had learned that some coincidences were worth questioning.

Ella turned to leave. Then she stopped.

“You really don't remember me?”

Troy forced a smile.

“I'm sorry.”

Ella nodded slowly.

“Maybe you will remember someday.”

She walked away. Troy watched her disappear into the crowd. Then he looked down at his phone. Her number was still there. But her earlier words kept replaying in his mind.

"I heard about your parents' death."

Troy took out the folded note from the detective. "St. Mary's Hospital, Ezifite". His eyes moved from the note to the direction Ella had disappeared. Something wasn't right. If Ella really believed she knew about his parents, then how much did she actually know about his childhood? And why had she looked nervous when he asked where she heard about their death? Troy opened his phone again. He stared at Ella's number. Then he made a decision. He wasn't going to ask her everything yet. First, he would investigate. He folded the detective's note and put it back in his pocket.

“It's all in the past,” he whispered.

But even as he said the words, he knew he didn't believe them. He picked up his luggage and walked toward the exit. His investigation had not even begun. Yet somehow, the first person he had met in Nigeria was someone from the very past he had come to uncover. Troy stopped. A troubling thought crossed his mind.

«What if Ella knew what happened on the day he was born?»

His expression changed. For the first time, Troy understood something frightening.

Maybe he hadn't come to Nigeria to find his past. Maybe his past had been waiting for him.