Inside the orphanage, the sun cast a warm glow through the windows, illuminating the old, familiar walls. Anjola stood by Eze's door, peeking in to see him fast asleep. She sighed softly, wondering aloud, "Hey, Eze sure has been sleeping for a while, huh?"
Joyce, lounging on the couch nearby, rolled her eyes. "Yeah, he really has, hasn't he? At first, I thought it was laziness, but he's pretty much been gone the entire day!"
Chinwe, who was leafing through a book by the window, glanced up. She knew that Eze's deep slumber had something to do with his superpowers. "It COULD be laziness, or it could be one of those freaky supernatural things. Let's just hope he isn't suffering," she would muse to herself. She quickly tried to cover up her thoughts, as if someone heard her.
"Nah, it's probably just laziness." she would say out loud.
Joyce gave her a scowl. But before the conversation could continue, Bolu burst into the room, holding what seemed to be some vegetables in a basket. "Joyce, shhh. I'm about to talk."
"Abeg, don't come here and start your own," Joyce retorted, clearly annoyed.
"Too bad. Now to the rest of you—" Bolu began.
"Which one is 'too bad'?" Joyce interrupted.
"Sister Ulu is going to be out today. So apparently, we have to do everything," Bolu announced, ignoring Joyce's interruption.
Joyce groaned, flopping back onto the couch. "Great. More time stuck in here with nothing to do."
"You say that, but you don't exactly do anything outside either," Bolu said. "Mrs quiet and shy suddenly wakes up at home."
"Bolu, I can rip you limb from limb at any point," she said, a stick now seemingly appearing in her hand.
"I doubt it."
"Don't try me."
"Oh come on, can the both of you stop already?" Anjola said.
"Hang on" Chinwe blurted, interrupting the quarrel. "Have any of you checked on the other children lately?"
Anjola's eyes widened. "Oh, I almost forgot! I'll be right back." She hurried out of the room, leaving Bolu, Joyce, and Chinwe.
Chinwe looked at Bolu for assurance. He shrugged. "No, she won't."
He started to walk to wherever the kitchen is meant to be located. Then he stopped to look back. "Joyce, you coming?"
"Why would I?"
"Be quick oh."
"Please now, leave me."
"Stop the complaining. Let's go and make food. And no, no chocolate."
And now, Chinwe was alone again.
She walked down orphanage, into the path to Eze's room. Then, she attempted to open it. No dice. Which is odd as...
"Eze never locks his room," she said to herself.
She slumped in front of the room, crossing her legs. At least it confirmed what she had figured out. Still, it wasn't really comforting. It meant, that whatever that... thing that powered him was, must be dealing with him right now.
She tried the door one last time, still, to no avail. She sighed, then left.
. . .
Soon, she found herself wandering outside. There wasn't much of a view here, with a single, fading tree planted at the back of the orphanage. She tried to picture what it looked like before, but she couldn't remember. Not with everything clouding her brain.
"Chinwe? Are you alright out there?"
It was Anjola. She seemed as energetic as ever.
"You know, considering you were the first one here, it's pretty ironic you're the only one who can still move around freely," she added, with a sly smile.
"Yeah. Um, what about other kids?"
"It's crazy how they can all collectively be distracted by a tiny little board game," she said, looking slightly harried but relieved. "They're fine, playing some board games. Hopefully, they won't need too much supervision for a while."
Then, there was a silence. One that Anjola could not bear.
Anjola turned to Chinwe, noticing her pensive expression. "You're really worried about Eze, aren't you?"
Chinwe nodded slowly. "Yeah, I can't help but feel something's off. He's been through so much already. I just wish we knew what was going on."
Anjola placed a reassuring hand on Chinwe's shoulder. "Eze is strong. I mean, I wouldn't know, but I'm sure he'll be okay. Besides, he has us looking out for him, right?"
Chinwe managed a small smile. "Yeah, you're right. Thanks, Anjola."
"Do you...want to check on them again?"
"I've got nothing better to do."
They had reached the quite frankly, large room with the other children. The floors are a patchwork of mud and concrete, worn smooth in places from countless footsteps.
The room is filled with a row of small, simple beds, each with a thin mattress and a single blanket. The beds are spaced evenly apart, and each child has a modest wooden drawer beside their bed, painted in bright but chipped colours. These drawers hold the children's belongings—simple clothes, a few cherished toys, and sometimes school supplies. Who knows what they put in there? The room is lit by a few overhead fluorescent lights that flicker intermittently, casting a dim and uneven glow. Not that matters right now, as there is no light in the area. Alongside that, no one felt like putting on the generator until evening.
Windows along one side of the room allow natural light to filter in. And as they got there, they didn't seem to be doing much. Just the classic noisy chatter.
"Hey everyone, I see we're playing Ludo?" Anjola asked, crouching down to their level.
One of the younger kids, a boy named Timi, grinned. "I'm winning!"
Anjola chuckled. "That's great! What about you guys over there?"
"It is close! Between us!" another would say.
The children nodded eagerly and returned to their game.
"I think I'll stay here for a while. Why don't you go and check on our favourite couple?" Anjola said, gesturing to the door.
"Huh? Oh, ok. Ah, see you later."
Eventually, she did infact get there. She found them in the middle of something.
You see, the relationship between the two was complicated to say the least. If you were to ask Anjola, she would call it some sort of love. If you asked Obinna however, he would say the 2 outright hated each other. Chinwe wasn't quite sure which one to believe.
Bolu leaned casually against the counter, observing Joyce as she rummaged through the pantry, muttering under her breath.
"You know, the way you're attacking those cans, someone might think you're plotting a rebellion," Bolu quipped.
Joyce paused her rummaging, shot him a glare. "Oh, shut up, Bolu. If you actually helped for once, maybe we'd get this done faster."
Bolu raised an eyebrow, his smirk widening. "I'm the one who dragged you here. Besides, you wouldn't want me to ruin your masterpiece, would you?"
Joyce rolled her eyes and grabbed a can of tomatoes. "Some moral support. You're about as useful as a chocolate teapot."
"Speaking of chocolate, how's your stash holding up?"
Her expression darkened, and she slammed the can on the counter with more force than necessary. "Don't start, Bolu. I'm not in the mood."
"Hey guys, hows the food holding up?"
They both snapped their heads at her at impressive, almost scary speeds. Then, they just seemed to go back to making food as if she wasn't there.
"Tough crowd." Chinwe said to herself.