“Don’t you trust me, Celine? If he comes by, I’ll definitely let you know!” Folakemi had complained from the receiver end of the call. It was obvious from her peeved, high-pitched tone that she was trying her best not to yell at her. “You must think I desire to have you so invested in my son’s case. Do you think I feel great to be a burden to you?” 

Celine could no longer stand David’s mother lashing out at her, so she removed her phone from her ear and hung up after tendering her apologies. Once she let out a deep, frustrated breath she’d been holding, she leaned on the railings in her balcony and took in the afternoon’s cool air, hoping the breeze would share in her worries and extinguish some of her burdens as it floated through. As she stared at the tall mango tree that stood next to her neighbor’s house, she pondered on what else she could do. 

If she was being honest with herself, Folake had a right to snap at her. Ever since the day the courier had delivered the tie to David, she waited for many things; for Folake to call and let her know that the plan had worked because David had visited her, to hear that David had changed his ways and that he’d returned the girls to their families. The latter seemed a bit far-fetched to her, but she had a right to be delusional. 

As the weeks passed by, Celine became Folakemi’s most frequent caller. ‘Hi’s’ were no longer mere words of greetings. Instead, the pleasantries bore a subtle act of disturbance. Folakemi had continued to assure her that she would let her know if David came around. The reassurance was issued with a calm and compassionate tone at first. Gradually, bits of unease began to reflect in her voice until anger took over, barely able to remain hidden. 

It was then she realized that she had to do something else. She could no longer wait for David to come around. What if it was too late and something terrible had happened while she was waiting for him to do the right thing? So she decided to recruit a spy and assign him to disguise as a worker at David’s office. Her sole purpose of doing that was to keep track of Gertrude’s parents’ information. 

Since she’d dialed the events planner’s number several times to no avail, she decided to use another means to get what she wanted. She was sure that there would be a file in the office that contained the contact information of guardians and parents whose children or wards had participated in competitions that the company organized. 

She’d initially thought of planting bugs and cameras in hidden areas in the company but wasn’t sure of how effective that was going to be. The better option was to have her spy pay attention to the conversations between the workers.

So the first step she took was ensuring that the company recruited the spy as a janitor. Once he managed to get in, she instructed him to be friendly with the elderly workers at the company so it would be easier to get information from them. The spy had bribed the old workers with trays of ginger tea, occasional back scrubs, and funny jokes to get them to loosen up and trust them quickly. He did it regularly and slipped in his requests in subtle ways. 

Any time he gave a middle-aged janitor a massage, he would subtly implore them by saying, “Please don’t hesitate to tell me anything ma… if you notice anything strange sir, please let me know.’’ Fake acts of kindness exhibited to win the hearts of the older workers included occasional words that could help to incite gossip. 

Unfortunately, his efforts never really paid off in the direct sense because the janitors never said anything. There was not much to discuss. Though they knew their boss was a shady person, they had no knowledge of his darkest secrets. It was basic knowledge to almost every worker in the company that there were a couple of fishy things going on, but only very few people knew what David was up to. Those were the highly trusted workers. 

Or perhaps, they did – especially when drama had played out before them a few weeks ago. One afternoon, Andrew, Celine’s spy, had something juicy to report to her after many weeks of eavesdropping and trying to be friendly with the company’s auxiliary workers. He was mopping the floors of the visitor’s lobby when he heard loud murmurings from the janitors in the closest room from where he stood. 

He paused his activity and tried to listen and make out words from the discussion that was going on. He didn't do this because he'd heard a term that was relative to the case he was investigating. Instead, he eavesdropped because that was what he’d been assigned to do. He had to keep his ears alert and listen in on every conversation – both the meaningful and otherwise. 

He was wearing his AirPods, and he was connected to Celine. Celine had heard the loud voices from her end. So she instructed Andrew to move closer so she could hear the words in detail. Andrew obeyed and found a wall that was closer to the room. He leaned against it and the words became more audible. 

“I hear say oga don color the new file from the usual place ooo,” a man announced. He sounded alarmed and frightened — like he was scared of some secret he was not supposed to be aware of for the kind of job position he held at the company. 

“Which file be that?” a woman with a tiny, sing-song voice asked inquisitively. 

“Be like say na the file wey get the phone number of that man and him wife wey come last time. Shebi, you remember that woman wey cry sotey for waiting room. She con rest her head for her husband shoulder,” another lady explained in a matter-of-factly voice. 

“Ehn. I remember them well well. Them don come here like three times now to fight our oga,” the woman with the tiny voice confirmed. 

“Na the file be that!” the man exclaimed, indicating that the new file that had been removed was the one that contained the phone numbers of Gertrude’s parents. 

“Ah, wetin happen?” “Why him remove am?” the women enquired. 

“Ah ah. Make una dey use una number six na!” the man reprimanded the ladies. “Shebi una just talk say you see the man and him wife when dem come office dey cry and shout. I see them too, and as you see the matter so. E sure me say them tell everybody wey dey work for here say them dey look for their pikin. Some of the workers for don assure them say them go contact them if them find any clue. 

The phone numbers dey that file. Even if the man and him wife drop number, e go get one file wey them go store the number. Na why oga remove that file make nobody see the phone number to take and call them.”

Celine’s eyes widened as she listened and pinched a piece of leather from the sofa she was sitting on. This new development was worse than a waterloo. What would happen to her plans now there was no way for her to get Gertrude’s parents’ phone number? How was she going to let them know that she knew where their daughter was? The event planner had refused to pick up her call after numerous trials. Now she'd recruited spies for nothing. 

All she’d heard was enough to make her stop overhearing the conversation, but the file's new location had not been revealed. Maybe the janitors would know where he'd placed the document now. So she pressed the earbuds against her ear and listened closely. 

“Where the file go be now?” the tiny voice woman inquired. 

“Omo, I no know o,” Celine could visualize the man shrugging as he expressed his uncertainties. “Na only one warehouse dey this company and he don comot the file from there. I use my two koro-koro eyes see am when him comot for warehouse dey carry one file for hand. When I look well well, I see say them write ‘recent cases’ for the file. Na how I take know say na the new file be that. 

I dey wan do gbeborun. I wan know wetin dey the file boya na true true say oga dey kidnap children as I don hear for some people mouth. Boya that man and him wife know wetin them dey talk when them accuse our oga say na him kidnap their daughter. So as I dey clean his office one time, I use style check him desk well well, but I no see any document for the table. And you know say oga no dey leave anybody for him office because him no trust anybody. But that day, oga comot for office oo. He go ease himself, so I quickly use time check inside him desk. 

But I be fool. I suppose don know say nothing dey the cabinet na why oga get liver to leave him office. So I no see any file for there. Boya he don carry am go home.” 

Celine felt her heart drop below her chest as the male caretaker explained how he'd tried to find the file to no avail. She closed her eyes and pondered deeply on what she could do next. While she tried to think, several other voices spoke in her head. Guilt was one of them, and it had such a condescending voice. 

Celine began to wish that she’d never waited so long for David to come around and visit his parents. She wished she hadn't invested so much faith and hope in his healing process. Oh, how she had underestimated him because clearly, she was the one being played right now. She was on the losing side. If he'd taken the file away, it meant that he was already aware of her efforts to lay her hands on the file – or anything that could help her get Gertrude’s parent’s phone number. 

Maybe that was why she'd been unable to reach the event planner. What if David had killed the person? She opened her eyes with immediate fear when the thought occurred to her — like an absurd but understandable outturn of events. Her plans were backfiring on her, and there could only be one reason. 

He wanted her to stop trying, or else she too would be badly hurt in a short time. Celine knew that this was another chance for her to back out and give up. After all, Folake had given her that option several times, but she’d willingly declined it. Now that she could see in more practical terms the reasons why she had to put a halt to her actions, it became more convincing to her that she would be hurt in the long run if she decided to keep going. 

Still, she couldn't stop thinking of those young girls in captivity. What were they going through right now? Was he abusing them physically, emotionally, and even sexually? The uncertainty of the degree of hardship they were going through robbed Celine of her peace of mind. She'd never thought or imagined that David would be this vile, so she could not afford to underestimate his capacities – especially regarding how he was treating those girls. 

Maybe those girls were desperately hoping someone would save them very soon. Those cries for help that were miles away from her taunted her even though she couldn't hear them. There was no way she could give up now, even though it didn't seem like there was anything she could do to save the day. 

Celine decided she would slow down for the time being because Andrew’s safety was her top priority. Since her cover had been blown, she had to get him out of the company before he got into trouble. 

“You know what?” Celine spoke to Andrew after she'd snapped out of her thoughts. 

“Yes, ma’am?” Andrew answered in a whisper. 

“I need you to leave the company right now. Don't try to look for the file. Just get out of the place and meet me at my house tomorrow.” 

“Okay, ma’am,” he yielded and disconnected the call. 

Celine closed her eyes again, took a deep breath, and dug her hands into her hair, scratching her scalp absentmindedly. When she opened her eyes, she saw Autumn sitting on the floor with her legs apart. The little girl seemed very devoted to her playful activity as she was trying to arrange her doll house. 

Tufts of hair were jutting out of Autumn’s braids, and this served as a harsh reminder to Celine that she needed to loosen her daughter’s braids and take her to the salon soon. She felt bad for not giving her daughter all her attention recently. Autumn deserved everything beautiful. She was a kind child who would do what she could for the people she loved as little as she was. 

She’d been kind enough to tell her that she'd seen a little girl run into a house the day they visited David’s house for the first time. If she hadn't told her, Celine wouldn't have known that some young girls urgently needed to be rescued. The least she owed her outspoken and compassionate child was a new hairdo. With a wry smile on her face, she left her chair and crawled towards the direction where Autumn was sitting. 

“Autumn,” Celine called her daughter's name with tears in her eyes. “Mommy is really sad,” she told her daughter. 

Autumn didn't turn to look at her mom. Instead, she fixed her eyes on the dollhouse as she placed small items into different rooms. 

“This is such a critical moment for me. I'm on my own, you know? I'm in a vicious war against a villain whom I thought would never hurt a fly. I need to save some young girls – some children who are slightly older than you. This is the moment that will define a lot of things; how things will go from here on and my supposed ‘friendship’ with this particular evildoer. Would you at least give mommy some comfort?”  

Celine looked at Autumn with a bit of desperation, hoping that her daughter would understand her grievances a little. And she did because a few minutes later, Autumn shifted her focus away from her toys and moved toward her mother. 

Then she rested her head on her mother’s bosom and wrapped her little arms around her back. Celine smiled as she wept, so thankful for the consolation she received from the person she loved the most. The most precious thing about the embrace was its pureness. Venting to her four-year-old daughter was like expressing feelings in a diary or to a cherished pet. None of those could give a verbal form of consolation. Still, it felt comforting to talk to them. Also, none of them could share one’s secrets with people. They remained as they were – absorbers and sealers of the darkest tales. These were the attributes that made them so pure. 

The only difference was that Autumn was human, and although she couldn't comprehend her mother’s words, she knew that tears were a language, and she could understand them. So in her little knowledge of what crying meant, she did what she could to get her mother to stop weeping, and Celine was so grateful for it. She hugged her daughter fiercely as though her life depended on it and hoped for the best in the days to come.

*** 

Celine had just stepped out of bed when she heard incessant knocks at her door. The past two days had been hellish. She'd met with Andrew, and together, they brainstormed on what else she could do to get Gertrude’s parents’ phone numbers. However, none of the suggestions they came up with were doable. 

Time was running by, and something had to be done, so she resorted to the last option, which was reporting David to the police. That way, Gertrude’s parents might be able to find Gertrude faster. If David was going to try to shut the officers up, she was going to spend her money to ensure that the right thing was done. 

She had planned to visit the station when she woke up at the right time, but the knock, especially what came after it, shattered her plans. After roaming her hand around the door in an attempt to find the doorknob, they landed on something hard and rod-like, and she managed to pull it down, causing the door to open. 

But she didn't find anyone at the entrance. The anger that this alone made her feel was enough to remove every remnant of sleepiness from her eyes. Which insane idiot thought it was okay to play a foolish prank like this early in the morning? 

Celine looked in the left and right directions. She even looked down the stairs but didn't find any retreating figure. Then she looked downwards and saw a piece of clothing folded and packaged in transparent nylon. She furrowed her eyebrows and tried to remember if she'd placed an order from a clothing store, but no memory of such a transaction came to her. 

She was curious and wondered why the cloth had been dropped at her doorstep. She stooped and examined it closely, then realized she recognized the fabric. It was Andrew's pink shirt which he’d worn the previous day for the meeting. She could even recall that she had complimented it. 

Why was it here now? Could it be that…?

Her heart began to pound as she picked up the package and tore off the nylon from the shirt, and unfolded it. There was a huge blood stain that spread from the collar of the shirt to its hem. A scream escaped Celine’s lips – one she wasn't conscious of because she could barely see anything anymore. However, the cry had come from a place of knowing exactly what had happened. 

David had killed Andrew. 

He was aware that one of his workers was a spy who was trying to find one of his most precious files and had decided to deal with his nosy ass. 

Celine could not explain the wave of frustration she was feeling, and she found herself wondering if she was the one who had been clumsy and lousy with her techniques or if David was just an omniscient bastard. Why was he thwarting every one of her plans?

She couldn't bear it anymore. It was at that moment she decided she was going to confront him. For months, she’d made deliberate efforts not to go to David’s house (especially when the temptation to go there and free the girls was so strong). She'd wanted to expose him and bring him to change his ways from afar. 

But now, Celine couldn’t conceal her despair anymore. She had to give him a huge piece of her mind. Celine didn't bother to get dressed or go in to grab her car keys. Instead, she hurried down the stairs in her pajamas and dashed onto the road. She hailed the first taxi she saw that was driving by, and in about half an hour, she was at David's mansion. She alighted the vehicle in a hurry and moved towards the gate. 

Celine was surprised when the gate opened on its own after her first knock. Where were the guards? After a moment of hesitation, she walked into the house’s premises and looked all around, expecting a security officer to come from behind and startle her with a loud voice, asking who she was. 

Yet, no one came. There was no sound of anything – doors closing, footsteps, or even the dog that had barked the other day. Despite how tall and wide the mansion was, it looked empty even from the outside. The bungalow that the security guards stayed in also seemed deserted. She could see the bare windows because they were void of curtains. When she turned the doorknob, the door didn't open. Then she glanced at the garage and couldn't see any of David’s cars. 

Celine's fury was slowly vanishing as the shock from the vast emptiness before her made her feel a disturbing sense of worry.  With furrowed eyebrows, she walked towards the door of David’s house, and to her surprise, when she turned the knob, the door opened. 

When she stepped in, she gasped. 

Everything was gone. 

The chairs, center table, rug, TV, paintings, flower vases, shelves, dining table, and everything she had seen the last time she went to his house were no longer there. 

She didn't need to climb the stairs to confirm her suspicions. Still, for delusion’s sake, she mounted the stairways with hopes that she’d find a soul in there or even an item – anything that would convince her that David was still living in the mansion. 

Unfortunately, every single room in the upper part of the mansion was just as empty as the lower parts. Celine rushed out of the manor and ran through the path to the bungalows that hosted the young girls. To her big shock, for the umpteenth time, the door stood ajar. This compartment was where she'd expected the door to be locked, but there it was, opened. 

The insides were empty also and carried no smell of captivity. It was as though no one had ever lived there before. It was the blandness of the white walls that drove Celine crazy. That was the entire point of the emptiness – to give Celine’s imagination the task of filling it up. 

So she imagined all sorts of things. She tried to visualize how David had arranged the sofas in the living room, how he'd mandated the girls to sit on them as he blackmailed them with soft-spoken words, as he whispered tales of how gruesome his sister’s death had been into their innocent ears, he must have tortured them with his tears like he'd done to her. 

Celine tried to imagine where David must have stored his whips and canes for ‘sibling disciplinary actions,’ for the times when the girls were not being so cooperative, and she thought of the words he must have said while he lashed them with strokes of the cane. They would have been emotionally torturous words that hurt more than the meanest insults. Utterances such as ‘do you want to see me cry after all I've been through?’ 

Soon, Celine’s thoughts became so loud that she covered her ears with her hands to tune them out. Then she gazed at the emptiness beyond her, suddenly feeling like shrinking. 

The hollowness of the building alone spiraled Celine into a different kind of pain. She felt like an echo – a reflection of something so irrelevant and soon to fade away into the air and to unknown depths. What was her use of being here now that everything was gone? 

David had eloped with the girls. She'd been too late, and now as she stood in the middle of this small, vacant space, she felt invisible – like she was not supposed to be there.  She'd failed. 

Thus, as failures typically behaved, Celine fell to the ground and wept.