The silence in the house was deafening. Chijioke's knees felt weak as he clung to the doorway, staring at the spot where Nneoma had disappeared. He turned back to Obinna, whose face was still pale with fear.
"She… she was here," Chijioke stammered. "She must be hiding somewhere."
Obinna shook his head grimly. "Chijioke, I saw her body. She drowned in the Njaba River. They found her washed up on the banks days later. The whole town attended her burial."
Chijioke refused to believe it. "No! That can't be true. She's my wife! We've been together for years. We have a child, Obinna!"
Obinna's voice softened, though it was laced with urgency. "Listen to me, Chijioke. You must seek answers. There is only one person in this town who can help you understand what's happening."
Reluctantly, Chijioke agreed to visit the village elder. Obinna stayed behind to watch over Amarachi, whose cries had subsided into quiet murmurs.
The elder's hut was dimly lit, the air thick with the scent of burning herbs. Baba Oji, the oldest man in Amaokwe and a renowned spiritual guide, sat cross-legged on a mat, his piercing eyes studying Chijioke as he entered.
"Baba, I need your help," Chijioke began, his voice trembling. "My wife… she disappeared. My friend says she is someone who died years ago. I don't know what to believe."
Baba Oji nodded slowly, as though he already knew what Chijioke was about to say. He gestured for Chijioke to sit, then began to speak in a low, deliberate tone.
"Your wife, Nneoma, is not among the living. She is a spirit—what some might call a restless soul."
Chijioke felt as though the ground had shifted beneath him. "A spirit? No, Baba, you must be mistaken. She's been with me for years. We have a daughter. How can she be…?"
Baba Oji raised a hand to silence him. "Spirits like Nneoma often return to the mortal world seeking solace, love, or redemption. They can assume human form and live among us, but their existence is fragile. The moment someone from their past recognizes them, their connection to this world begins to unravel."
Chijioke's mind raced as he recalled all the strange occurrences—the animals' reactions, her avoidance of mirrors, her reluctance to discuss her past. It all began to make a terrible kind of sense.
"Why did she choose me?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
The elder looked at him with sympathy. "Perhaps she saw in you a kindness that she longed for in her life. Spirits like her are drawn to pure hearts. But you must understand—her time here is over. She cannot stay."
"But what about Amarachi?" Chijioke pleaded. "She's our child. What does this mean for her?"
"Amarachi is special," Baba Oji said. "She carries the essence of both worlds—the mortal and the spiritual. You must protect her, Chijioke. Her connection to her mother's world will be both a blessing and a burden."
Chijioke left the elder's hut with a heavy heart, torn between his love for Nneoma and the impossible reality of her existence.