The first problem with investigating a supernatural mystery was that nobody respected office hours.
The second was that everybody expected Kade to have answers.
He had neither.
"Femi says he still has the original photograph," Tobi announced.
Kade looked up from his examination bed.
"Where?"
"At his parents’ house."
"Can he get it?"
"Tomorrow."
Kade stared at him.
"Tomorrow?"
Tobi shrugged.
"Some people have jobs, Kade."
"What’s that supposed to mean?"
"That the rest of Lagos hasn’t suspended economic activity because your life has become a horror film."
Kade considered that.
"Fair."
Tobi sat beside him.
The photograph remained open on his phone.
A younger Kade stood near the back of the graduating students, looking thoroughly unimpressed by the ceremony.
Beside him, Tobi was smiling as though he’d personally invented education.
And several metres behind them stood Mr Akin.
Glasses.
Brown leather bag.
His head turned slightly toward the students.
Kade enlarged the image.
The pixels blurred.
"Could he have been looking at somebody else?" Tobi asked.
"Yes."
"Could he have been looking at nothing?"
"Also yes."
"Excellent. We’re making progress."
Kade lowered the phone.
They needed evidence, not imagination.
"Ask Femi whether he remembers Mr Akin teaching us."
Tobi typed.
The reply came quickly.
Not really. He supervised some revision classes.
Another message followed.
Why are you suddenly interested in this man?
Kade thought carefully before answering.
Someone claiming to be him visited Tobi’s house. We’re trying to confirm his identity.
Femi replied:
Then ask Mrs Oladipo. She worked with him.
Tobi looked up.
"That’s actually useful."
Kade nodded.
"Find her number."
Mrs Oladipo remembered Kade immediately.
Unfortunately, not for academic excellence.
"That boy who argued with me about simultaneous equations?"
Kade closed his eyes.
Tobi grinned.
"Yes, ma. That’s him."
"Is he still arguing?"
"Professionally."
Kade took the phone.
"Good afternoon, ma."
"Kade Adeyemi! How is your mother?"
The question struck harder than he expected.
He swallowed.
"We’re looking for her, ma."
Mrs Oladipo went quiet.
"What happened?"
"She went missing."
"Oh, my goodness."
Kade explained briefly.
Then asked about Mr Akin.
The retired teacher sighed.
"I remember him."
"Was he a temporary mathematics teacher?"
"Yes. He helped during the examination period."
"Do you know his full name?"
"Akin was what everyone called him. I don’t remember what was written on his employment papers."
"Where did he come from?"
"He was recommended by someone connected to the school."
"Who?"
"I honestly can’t remember."
Kade glanced at Tobi.
"Did anything unusual happen while he worked there?"
Mrs Oladipo hesitated.
"Why are you asking?"
"Someone claiming to be him came looking for Tobi."
A long silence followed.
Then she said, "I never liked that man."
Kade sat straighter.
"Why?"
"He asked too many questions about students."
"What kind?"
"Family backgrounds. Medical records. Which children lived with one parent. Things that had nothing to do with mathematics."
Kade’s grip tightened.
"Did you report him?"
"Yes."
"What happened?"
"He stopped coming to school shortly afterward."
"Was he dismissed?"
"I don’t know."
Kade took a breath.
"Do you remember him asking about me?"
Mrs Oladipo considered the question.
"I remember him asking about your mother."
The room seemed to contract.
"What did he ask?"
"Whether she had always lived in Lagos."
Kade went still.
"And what did you tell him?"
"That it wasn’t his business."
For several seconds, Kade couldn’t speak.
Mrs Oladipo continued.
"Your mother came to the school once after that. I told her about the questions."
"What did she say?"
"Very little."
"Please, ma. Try to remember."
The older woman’s voice softened.
"She thanked me. Then she asked whether the man had ever spoken to you privately."
Kade felt cold. Find the original chapter at g.com.
"What did you tell her?"
"That I didn’t know."
After the call, Kade sat motionless.
Tobi watched him.
"Your mum knew about Mr Akin."
"She knew he was asking questions."
"That’s something."
Kade nodded.
But it wasn’t proof that Adunni knew who the man really was.
Or why he had been interested in her.
He added the information to his notes.
CONFIRMED: Mr Akin asked about Adunni while working at the school.
Then another line.
UNKNOWN: Why he wanted information about her.
Tobi leaned back.
"At least we know he was real."
"We know someone called Mr Akin worked there."
"And looked like the photograph."
"According to Mum’s description, yes."
Tobi frowned.
"You’re becoming exhausting."
"Good. Exhausting people survive longer."
"That is not scientifically established."
Kade smiled faintly.
Then his expression changed.
"Did he ever speak to you alone?"
Tobi thought.
"Maybe."
"When?"
"I don’t remember."
"Try."
Tobi rubbed his forehead.
"That was years ago, Kade."
"I know."
His friend closed his eyes.
After a moment, he shook his head.
"Nothing."
Kade nodded.
He wouldn’t push.
Not after what had happened on the bus.
By late afternoon, Kade had developed a new problem.
Boredom.
Mama Efe refused to let him leave the examination bed except when necessary.
His ankle remained swollen, although the pain had eased slightly with rest.
He couldn’t investigate the waterworks.
Couldn’t visit Tobi’s house.
Couldn’t even walk to the pharmacy without assistance.
For someone whose entire life had recently become a series of desperate escapes, doing nothing felt unbearable.
He opened the System.
[HOST STATUS]
[ASE CORE: ABSENT]
[SPIRITUAL ENERGY: 19 UNITS]
[PHYSICAL CONDITION: IMPAIRED]
He stared at the familiar information.
"Can spiritual energy heal injuries?"
[CURRENT HOST FUNCTIONS DO NOT INCLUDE DIRECT PHYSICAL RESTORATION.]
"Can it strengthen my body?"
[COMPATIBLE DEVELOPMENT METHODS REQUIRE FURTHER ASSESSMENT.]
"Can you assess them?"
[INSUFFICIENT DATA.]
Kade sighed.
"You’re remarkably expensive for something that doesn’t charge money."
[QUERY NOT RECOGNIZED.]
"Naturally."
He dismissed the interface.
Across the room, Tobi was eating groundnuts.
"Any progress?"
"The System thinks I need more information."
Tobi nodded.
"Finally, something we agree on."
Kade reached for the packet.
Tobi moved it away.
"Buy your own."
"I’m injured."
"Your ankle is injured. Your wallet has been dead for years."
Kade grabbed a pillow and threw it.
Tobi caught it.
"Violence against your financial sponsor. Interesting strategy."
For a few minutes, they laughed.
It felt almost normal.
At six twenty, Femi called.
"I found something."
Tobi put the phone on speaker.
"The original photograph?"
"Not yet. But I found our old graduation programme."
Kade leaned forward.
"Does it list the teachers?"
"Some of them."
"Mr Akin?"
"No."
Tobi frowned.
"Then what did you find?"
"A note."
"What note?"
Femi hesitated.
"It was tucked between the pages."
Kade felt his attention sharpen.
"What does it say?"
"Just a name and a date."
"Whose name?"
"Yours, Kade."
Silence.
Kade stared at the phone.
"Mine?"
"Yes."
"What’s the date?"
Femi read it aloud.
It was the date of their graduation ceremony.
"And there’s something written underneath," he added.
Kade swallowed.
Femi hesitated.
"’Mother attended. No direct contact.’"
Tobi stopped chewing.
Kade felt the room grow very quiet.
"Who wrote it?"
"I don’t know. It’s handwritten."
"Is there anything else?"
"Some numbers. Maybe a reference code."
"Send me a photograph."
"Okay."
The call ended.
A few seconds later, an image arrived.
Kade enlarged it.
The handwriting was neat.
Almost mechanical.
KADE ADEYEMI
MOTHER ATTENDED. NO DIRECT CONTACT.
Beneath it was a sequence of numbers and letters.
Nothing else.
Kade studied the note.
Someone had been recording information about him years before Adunni disappeared.
Or at least someone had written those words.
He couldn’t establish when the note had actually been placed inside the programme.
That distinction mattered.
Tobi leaned closer.
"Could Mr Akin have written it?"
"Possibly."
"Could someone else?"
"Yes."
Kade stared at his name.
For the first time, the mystery seemed to stretch backward beyond the night his mother vanished.
But he had no idea how far.
Femi called again ten minutes later.
His voice sounded different.
"Kade?"
"Yes?"
"There’s something I didn’t tell you."
Kade sat straighter.
"What?"
"When I found the programme, I remembered something."
"About Mr Akin?"
"About your mother."
Kade’s pulse quickened.
"Go on."
"She came to school after graduation."
Kade frowned.
"Why?"
"I don’t know. I was collecting my certificate."
"Did you speak to her?"
"No."
"What happened?"
Femi hesitated.
"She was arguing with someone near the administrative block."
"Who?"
"I couldn’t see his face."
"Did you hear what they said?"
"Only one thing."
Kade gripped the phone.
"What?"
Femi took a breath.
"Your mother said, ’He’s not yours to examine.’"
Kade stared ahead.
For a moment, the clinic disappeared around him.
He remembered Bamidele’s warning.
Don’t let another cultivator examine you.
He remembered the woman in grey demanding access to his spiritual channels.
He remembered the hunter calling him an unusual spiritual disturbance.
But Femi’s memory was years old.
It might have been about something entirely different.
Kade forced himself to remain calm.
"Are you sure those were her words?"
"I think so."
"Think?"
"It was years ago, Kade. I’m telling you what I remember, not what I can prove."
Kade closed his eyes.
"Thank you."
"Are you in trouble?"
He looked at Tobi.
Then at his injured ankle.
"Something like that."
"Be careful."
The call ended.
Kade remained silent for a long time.
Tobi didn’t interrupt.
Eventually, Kade picked up his notebook.
Under WHAT WE KNOW, he wrote:
Mr Akin asked questions about Adunni.
Under WHAT WE DON’T KNOW, he added:
Who wanted to examine someone years ago—and why?
He stared at the second line.
His mother had protected him from ordinary dangers all his life.
Hunger.
School fees.
Illness.
The uncertainty of growing up without much money.
Now he was beginning to suspect there had been other dangers.
But suspicion wasn’t proof.
He closed the notebook.
"Tobi."
"Yes?"
"Tomorrow, we need the original photograph."
Tobi nodded.
"And the programme?"
"That too."
"What are we looking for?"
Kade glanced at Adunni’s locked phone.
"Something we can verify."
Outside, evening traffic filled the street.
Somewhere beyond the clinic, a man who looked like an old mathematics teacher had visited Tobi’s home.
Someone had written Kade’s name inside a graduation programme.
And years earlier, his mother had apparently warned an unknown person against examining someone.
Kade didn’t yet know whether those events were connected.
But he intended to find out.