"Who are you, and what are you doing here?" the occupant of the vehicle asked as he pulled out his lenses.
Unsatisfied, he opened the door and stepped out.
Edmond wiped his face with his shirt, trying to maintain a clearer vision.
He touched the scar on his forehead just as the occupant of the vehicle removed his hat, revealing a similar scar on his forehead.
The resemblance was out of this world.
"Who are you?" the occupant of the vehicle asked a second time.
"What is that scar on your forehead? How did you get it?" Edmond asked in return.
"Scar? I don't know. What is happening here? Why were you waiting for me, and how did you know I was coming here?"
"Are you... are you the twin? My twin?" Edmond stuttered.
"What twin? Talk to me. Who are you, and why are you here?" The man's patience was wearing thin.
Edmond trembled.
"My name is Edmond. This… this scar on my forehead is what reminds me of my twin brother. My mother told me I had a twin—a brother that looked exactly like me. We were conjoined, joined at the head. She couldn't bear the cost of separating us, but then this wealthy man from the East, an Igbo man, volunteered to help us—with a condition. He flew all of us to India for the operation..."
"What was the condition?"
"That our mother would give one of us to him, since he couldn't have a child of his own. Papers were signed, and the operation was successful."
"Wait! Wait! Wait! This man from the East, the man with so much kindness—which state in the East was he from?"
"I don't know. Mother didn't tell me."
"Do you know his name?"
"She didn't mention."
"And where is your mother now?"
"She's late. Same with my father. Things became very difficult for us after my graduation. There was no job, and they were aging. Mum was…"
"Excuse me, please. Forget those stories. What are you doing here? Why did you stop me? Do you know this is a restricted area, and you can be picked up for this?"
"I've been waiting here since last night, hoping to see someone come out of or go into this compound. When I saw you, I waved for you to wait and…"
"Wait and do what? Do you know the occupant of this edifice?"
"Yes! She is my wife. No, she was my wife. But she died and was buried. I buried her. I gave her a befitting burial not up to a year ago. She… she showed up yesterday as the new MD of EWEE Oil & Gas and fired me the moment she set her eyes on me."
"What did you just say? She fired you? What for? What reasons did she give?"
"She didn't give any reason. She just did not want to see me anywhere near the company. So I was wondering why she did that and decided to follow her down here."
"Your stories are not connecting. You know what? I'll give you money. Just go and eat. I can see you're hungry, and…"
"You think I'm making this story up? Fine! See here, see the pictures we took together as a family," Edmond said, pulling out his phone and opening his gallery.
When the man saw the pictures, he stepped back from Edmond.
"You said she is your wife?"
"Yes! She was, but she died, and we buried her."
"I'm beginning to connect the dots. There is something my instinct is telling me. She must have mistaken you for me."
"You know her? She knows you? How come?"
"She's my ex-wife. We just got divorced. Come into the car. Let's find a place to unravel this mystery. I'll show you the moments I shared with Rukiat in pictures."
"Rukiat? Her name is Rukiyat, not Rukiat," Edmond protested.
"Rukiyat? That's not her name. I know my wife—I mean my ex. Her name is Rukiat."