Chapter 2
825 Words
Adanna sat behind the counter, the kettle still warm from making tea earlier. Her eyes drifted to the corridor that led to Room 4. She told herself she wasn’t watching for him. She told herself she was just checking the hallway light.
She was still telling herself that when she heard it — the low, deliberate rumble of an engine, slowing down outside the gate.
It wasn’t the sound of a lost traveller, hesitant, peering at road signs. This was measured. Unhurried. The way you drive when you’re not looking for a place to rest, but for someone.
She stood slowly, moving toward the lobby window, careful to keep herself in shadow. Through the glass, she saw it: a black Jeep, body slick from the rain, moving past the gate with its headlights dimmed. Inside, silhouettes. At least two men. Maybe three.
They didn’t turn into the compound. Just kept rolling… slowly… like they were counting windows.
The Jeep disappeared into the dark.
She exhaled — but too soon. A minute later, the same low growl returned from the opposite direction. The Jeep passed again, this time even slower. The passenger-side window was down, and she caught a glimpse of a man’s face lit briefly by the dash glow — sharp jaw, hat pulled low, eyes scanning like searchlights.
They were looking for him.
For Chike.
A knock startled her — too sharp to be polite.
She turned. A man stood in the doorway, framed by the weak light from the road. He wore a dark rain jacket and carried no umbrella, his clothes only damp at the shoulders, as though the rain hadn’t dared to touch him for long. His smile was the same one she’d heard on the phone earlier — the kind that didn’t reach the eyes.
“Evening, madam,” he said, stepping inside without waiting for an invitation. His gaze swept the lobby, deliberate and casual all at once. “You keep your place tidy. Must be good business.”
“It’s alright,” she said, voice steady.
He walked to the counter, his steps silent on the tile. “I’m looking for someone. Might have come in with the rain.” He glanced toward the corridor. “Tall, clean haircut, charcoal jacket. Polite… but maybe a little tense.”
Her fingers brushed the edge of the counter, grounding herself. “You’re describing a lot of people.”
“Ah,” he said, tilting his head. “But you’d remember this one.” He leaned in slightly. “A friend of mine. Owes me a conversation.”
Adanna didn’t blink. “No one like that here.”
A pause stretched. The man’s smile didn’t change, but his eyes sharpened. “That so?”
“That’s so,” she said.
Another beat. The Jeep’s engine idled faintly outside. She could almost feel the hum in her chest.
Finally, he straightened. “If you see him…” He slid a small, damp card across the counter. No name, no business — just a number. “Tell him Madu is waiting. Tell him I’m patient… but not forever.”
He left without another word, the door’s bell giving a single nervous jingle. The Jeep rolled away, this time not returning.
She stood still for a long time, the card lying between her and the kettle like something poisonous.
Room 4’s light still glowed faintly under the door. She crossed the lobby and the corridor, knocked once, and Chike opened almost instantly, as if he’d been standing right behind it.
“They came,” she said simply.
His jaw tightened. “What did they say?”
“That they’re patient.” She handed him the card.
He didn’t even look at it before slipping it into his pocket. “Madu,” he said, almost to himself. “I should have known.”
“You want to tell me who he is?” she asked.
He shook his head. “Not yet. The less you know—”
“I’m already in it,” she cut in, sharper than she meant. “They came here. Into my place.”
That pulled his gaze to hers, steady, dark. “And you told them nothing,” he said.
“I don’t lie for people I don’t trust,” she replied. “So I suppose I trust you… for now.”
Something passed between them then — not warmth exactly, but the understanding that comes when two people realise they’re already bound by the same danger.
Later, when the compound was quiet again, Adanna sat behind the counter, her eyes on the gate.
She thought of locking it. She thought of calling the police. She thought of what it meant that she’d done neither.
Somewhere in the dark, the Jeep might still be waiting. And somewhere in Room 4, the stranger she’d let in was listening for it too.
The night wasn’t over.
It was only just beginning.
- Writer
