Songs for this chapter are:

In Silence - Janet Suhh (Soundtrack from 'It's okay not to be okay)

Bed of Stone - Asa
—••—
Folakemi didn't find it strange that David didn't show up for breakfast. She could understand that he was still secluding himself from the family. In fact, there was no reason for the family to sit together for breakfast when one child was dead and the other child was consumed by guilt because he felt that the death of his sister had been his fault.

Having breakfast together signified collective happiness and that things were going well — a state that her family was so far from. Hence, Folakemi didn't feel the need to suspect anything until she noticed some silent chatter between Alexander and Yemisi.

She heard them while they went to the backyard to spread the washed clothes and observed them as they walked into the kitchen to wash the dishes. Folakemi had been unable to make out any words from their conversation until Alexander, who hadn't completely mastered the art of whispering, said with a shriek: "...is he missing?... Didn't see him when I woke up!"

That was when she finally got the hang of what their dialogue was about. He? Which other he could be missing at this particular season in their lives if not for David? Blood rushed through Folakemi's head in a swift second. In an even speedier moment, she dashed into the kitchen, startling Yemisi and Alexander.

By the looks of astonishment mixed with inconvenience on their faces, it was clear that they weren't pleased to see their mother barge in on them. They'd been trying not to let her realize that something was off. Folakemi noticed this, and she resented it.

"What's going on? Is David missing?"

There was a hollow silence from Alexander and Yemisi. The stillness was so deep and unbelievable. Folakemi didn't want to believe that they'd heard her question and had chosen not to respond. So when she spoke again, it was in a lower tone. A voice that depicted incredulity.

"I asked a question. Didn't I? Why aren't you guys answering it?"

They still didn't say a word. Anger started to rise from deep within. The grown fetus in her womb kicked furiously in conformity to her rage. How could they not answer her question? Did they think they were doing her a favor by putting her through this gut-wrenching anxiety? The silence was awful because it only confirmed what Folakemi dreaded the most at that moment.

"ANSWER ME! WHERE IS MY SON?!"

"W-we don't know, mom," Yemisi answered.

Yemisi had stuttered. Yemisi, who was by far, the cleverest child Folakemi had ever conceived, the only offspring who had always been an authentic problem solver had just stuttered, signifying that she was clueless. That was scary.

"What do you mean you don't know?" A hot tear slipped down Folakemi's eyes.

"I haven't seen him this morning. But his luggage is still intact in the room. None of his belongings are missing. So it doesn't seem like he ran away," Alexander, who shares a room with David, said. "Although, I noticed that my Sunday suit was missing." He added.

"Whyever should your Sunday suit be missing? Why does David need a disguise?" Yemisi pondered.

"Perhaps to run away and make it harder for us to find him?"

"Run away to where?" Yemisi asked.

Folake watched the conversation that went on between her children and didn't know what to feel. Why, indeed, did he need Alex's suit as a disguise?

Was it for school? Why would David run away to school? Did he borrow Alex's suit because his blazer had been tattered? Still, Folake didn't see any reason why David would go to school when his school fees for the term had not been paid. David didn't seem like the person who would go to school knowing that his fees were unpaid. He detested embarrassment.

Or maybe, now, he didn't. Lately, he'd been stricken by guilt and resented everyone in the family for being kind to him despite knowing the hand he had in Sindara's death.

Maybe, he'd really left for school.

"Do you think he left for school?" She asked them, hoping they would come up with positive reasons to solidify her thesis.

"I saw his uniform draped on the chair," Alex busted her bubbles.

"Where is he then?" She asked no one, in particular, this time. The uprising panic in her gut began to inject her voice.

Folake didn't wait for Alexander or Yemisi to try to answer her question before she sped out of the house — to ask the neighbors if they'd seen her son.

Outside, in Ajanlekoko Street, the morning sun hadn't risen fully. Birds gathered linearly against the parallel electric poles that stood high above the houses in the avenue, twittering collectively, with each sound harmonizing the other. The cashew tree planted by the fence of the radio repairer's house had now been covered with dust.

Folake didn't like the eerie outlook of the estate. Everything seemed to be a bad omen. The sounds that issued forth from the birds' beaks weren't ear-pleasing melodies. They sounded like a dirge. And the dusty, mote-bitten cashew tree? It looked like a visual representation of a deadened hope that could never be restored.

Did it mean that she would never see her son again?

Folake shook her head, choosing defiantly not to allow that negative thought to become her reality. She had to hope that she would find her son. That was how mothers behaved. Moreover, it was too soon to arrive at that conclusion.

She began to knock from gate to gate frantically, asking anyone who showed up if they'd seen her son. Many were reluctant and seemed quite irritated to see another wretched member of the Williams family disrupting their peace early in the morning within four weeks.

Folake didn't care.

She asked nevertheless. With each no she got, the seeds of dread that were scantily planted in her soul multiplied. When she arrived at Iya Saliu's outlet, Folake realized that something about herself was missing: her shame and pride.

It was not sane for Folake to approach Iya Saliu to ask for her son's whereabouts after what had happened when Iya Saliu visited her. But at that moment, as Folake stood before her potential foe with teary eyes and a desperate heart, not minding the look of displeasure on the hairdresser's face, David's desperation became somewhat relatable to Folake.

She could understand why he'd disobeyed her. Desperation removes shame.

Folake realized that if the solution to her problem or the answer to her question lay in the hands of her adversary, she would gladly be stripped of her shame and pride and would approach her enemy. On that day, David's sole focus was to feed Sindara jollof rice. Now, she aimed to find her son, and she had to find him by all means. Hence, she would enquire from the noxious hairdresser.

"Good morning Iya Saliu. Please, have you seen my son, David, this morning?"

"Your son is missing?" she asked with a scornful amusement in her voice that Folake instantly disliked.

"Did you see him?" she asked again.

"No." She answered with an exaggerated disinterest, pretending to be washing combs that had no strand of hair whatsoever hinged between their handles.

"How about yesterday? Maybe in the night. Did you see him at all? Or anyone that looked like him?"

"No!" Iya Saliu's voice rose in irritation, itching for Folake to leave.

Folake walked away silently, grateful that at least the hairdresser had answered her. Despite what had happened between them, and regardless of her attitude, Iya Saliu was a mother herself and knew how important it was for Folake to find her son. Folake could see that even with the way she'd answered with a saltiness to her tone. Hence, she was thankful for the response despite it being a negative one.

As she asked more people and got more 'no's, tears began to flow. She was tired of walking. The sun was now scorching down heavily, and sweat dripped down her temples.

"David, my son. Where are you? I need you back home. I love you so much, my son, and I'm not angry at you for what happened. Just come back home, please. I can't lose you." Folake lamented, hoping for a miracle in any way possible as she gazed into the cloudless sky.

***

When Folake returned home after a futile search, it was almost noon. The house was empty. Yemisi, Alexander, and Demilade were not at home. Still, Folake checked the boy's room, hoping she would find David sleeping on the mattress or reading on his desk as if nothing had happened.

She was crestfallen when she saw no one in the room.

Kelvin stepped out of the room, his face heavily designed with sleep marks and his eyes bloodshot. He rubbed his eye with his fingers and opened them widely to stare at Folakemi. When he eyed her from head to toe, a look of confusion clouded his face.

"What's going on? Why are you sweating so much?"

Folakemi stared at her husband for a moment with sheer disbelief. How dare he be so oblivious? How could he have slept so peacefully? Where the hell was his fatherly instinct?

"Are you aware that David is missing?"

"Oh," there was a decline in the concern that his voice had reflected earlier. Folake couldn't believe that Kelvin would act this way towards their son. "Well... Not really. I saw Alexander and Yemisi rushing out of the house earlier, and I heard Yemisi saying she would search Obalende Avenue. Alex was saying he would search the school. I wondered what they were searching for." he yawned. "Were you... Searching for him too?"

"How can I not look for my son?"

"Yemisi and Alex are already searching for him. Why walk under the hot sun in your current condition?" his eyes lowered to her tummy. "You've become so thin. Your collarbone is showing so clearly, and I'm afraid for that baby in you."

"Why shouldn't I? How can you say this as a parent? How in the world is it okay to let Yemi and Alex search for their brother as if we, his parents, are not alive? How can you tell me, his mother, to sit back and leave David's whereabouts for his siblings to figure out?"

"Look, what I'm just saying is that David might not be missing. It's not even up to twenty-four hours of his absence. Alex might find him in school. So, relax."

"You and I know that that's not the case with David. David has been excluding himself from every family activity. He never ate the meals I cooked for him and never said a word to anyone in this house ever since Sindara died. He's been so overwhelmed by the guilt and pain he feels.

He thinks that his sister's death was his fault, and you battered him like a piece of rag on the day you found out about her death. Now tell me, how can he not run away? He thinks we all hate him. Even if, deep down, he may not believe we do, his guilt won't let him see that. Believe me when I say that David is missing and I must look for him! I want to love him with everything in me and make him understand that he didn't murder his sister."

"You are not being realistic, Folake. Do you want to tell me that you were never for once angry at David ever since Sindara died? You want to tell me that you didn't feel a deep hatred towards him for killing your daughter?" Kelvin's voice rose.

"He. Did. Not. Kill. Sindara!" Folakemi repeated her statement through clenched teeth. "I'm not just Sindara's mother. I'm David's mother too. Hating my son because he made a grave mistake would be a lose-lose situation for me. Yes, Sindara died, and there's no reversing back. But letting David go and leaving him to rot in guilt? No. I can't permit that. I can't lose two children just like that."

"We will make more children, Folake. Don't waste your time looking for that murderer."

Make more children. Folake repeated those words in her head. For the first time in her eight months of being pregnant, she regretted the day she would have to bring this child into the world because clearly, the child wouldn't mean anything to Kelvin.

Make more children. Had he just said that? Was that what conception meant to him? Making more children when you lose one? As if each offspring was replaceable? How did she ever consider this bastard as the right person to be the father of her children?

Folake didn't know when she moved closer to her husband and slapped him violently across the cheek. The hit was so harsh and sudden that Kelvin staggered backward and stumbled against the wall.

"I should have left you to die all those times that you writhed in pain whenever you had a sickle cell crisis. I shouldn't have worked so hard to get new pills for you whenever you ran out of pills. Heck, if I didn't let you fuck me on that night of the bonfire, I wouldn't have gotten pregnant at such a young age for a bastard like you! You are not worth all the effort, and I wish I realized it early enough."

"I'm sorry, Folake," Kelvin said with a remorseful look as he rubbed the cheek Folake had just slapped.

"Sorry?" Folake laughed. "Stick that wretched apology where the sun doesn't shine! Now I will go forth and look for my son, my boy who deserves a second chance unlike his sorry excuse of a father!"

***

Folake returned home thirty minutes past four in the morning. Her clothes were soaked heavily from the rain that dripped heavily for a five-hour marathon. She'd planned on spending some more hours outside, but the cold had seeped deeply into her muscles and had begun to cause some stomach cramps. She feared that she would endanger the baby's life inside her if she didn't get any warmth.

Hence, she walked back home dejectedly, barefooted, teeth chattering, shoulders shivering, every strand of her hair deeply immersed in the moisture and with no more tears left to shed. She couldn't bear the thought that David was somewhere writhing under the painful claws of guilt, and she, after a long day of an abortive search, had to retire to bed because she had no choice.

At that moment, Folake loathed nature. She'd always resented nature because her relationship with nature was an ill-fated one. But now, she wondered why it was being so cruel.

If nature called for her to slumber, then it could at least make the sleep a peaceful one by bringing her son back home. Why did she have to fulfill so many obligations to something that only watched her suffer?

Folake turned on the light of the living room after she stepped into the house.

She took in her surrounding briefly. Everything looked almost exactly the way it had been before she left the house. Everyone had gone to bed. Yemisi and Alexander had returned home several hours ago. She'd met them somewhere close to Obalende Avenue and could remember how distressed they looked when the both of them told her that they couldn't find David.

She'd told them to go home and rest and that she would take over from there. She could recollect how reluctant they'd looked to obey her instruction. They, too, had to sleep even if they wouldn't if they had the choice.

Folakemi sighed and made a mental note to wake up by six o'clock to continue her search. As she took steps that would lead to her room, she stopped when she felt something slippery beneath her bare feet.

"What's that—oh my God!" She looked down, and after raising her feet in a curvy motion to reveal whatever substance it was on the floor, she was petrified to see droplets of blood and the smudge of water on the ground.

Had someone gotten hurt in her absence?

Is that the question you should be asking right now? Her subconscious chastised.

Folake took a moment to ponder as she stared at the puddle of blood on the floor.

Then it clicked.

David.

He was home.

With widened and tear-glistened eyes, she rushed to the boys' room, opened the door loudly and turned on the lights. Her eyes wandered frantically around the room after adjusting to the ray of light. Alexander, who had been snoring, frowned in his sleepy state, expressing his discomfort towards his mother's abrupt entrance.

But Folake's eyes were fixed on David's side of the mattress, and she was beyond heartbroken to see that he was not on the bed. The tears rolled down. However, after a little while, she noticed that the bedsheet looked rumpled, as though someone had been there.

Folake moved closer when she saw this, and she moved so slowly. The possibility that David had been home poked at her chest like a giant thorn. Suddenly, she began to regret staying out so late to look for him. Now she'd been too late.

When she got to David's bed and saw the same splatters of blood stained over the pillow and the bedspread as she'd seen in the living room, the possibility became a fact. Sinking into the pillow, Folake inhaled her son's scent as her wails came out as muffled sounds which the pillow had crushed.

The soft foam smelled of soap — just like him.

Scents. Folake hated that she could smell him. The night that Sindara had died, her odor filled the sofa where she'd sat. David was dead.

At that moment, when she made that conclusion, she glanced over at the desk and saw a razor blade on the table. He'd used the object to hurt himself before dying.

Folake spent the rest of the time weeping, grieving what could have been if she'd had the chance to save her son. She knew she wasn't supposed to give up so easily. She could have gone out to look for him since she saw signs that he'd been at home. He was probably close by. But Folake's dim hope had now died out completely.

Exhaustion that outweighed her motherly willpower to fight harder took over all of her senses. Her son was no more. There was no point looking for him.

Her plan, now, was to join him.