The shrill buzz of the mansion's generator echoed through the air, a low, continual reminder of the estate's need for continuous luxury. Chidi stood near the garage, the glossy shine of the family's SUV mirroring his tense demeanor. He was alone, yet his thoughts seemed like they could fill the whole driveway.
He lighted a cigarette, the flame flickering momentarily against the fading twilight light, then exhaled slowly. Smoke curled about him, providing a momentary covering for the weight he had borne for years. His hands shook slightly as he tossed the ash on the floor. The past was fighting its way back, piece by piece, and he couldn't keep ignoring it.
Chidi was a wide-eyed young guy when he started working as the Dapo family's chauffeur. The compensation exceeded his expectations, and the ironed and clean clothing made him feel important. But the first light of pride faded swiftly.
He recalled the first moment he realized anything was wrong. It was late and he had just returned from dropping off Dr. Dapo at the hospital. As he parked the vehicle, he saw Adaora in the garden, her silhouette striking against the moonlight. She was excavating with feverish gestures, as if burying something—or someone.
Chidi wanted to walk away, telling himself that it was none of his concern. But curiosity got the best of him. He approached with caution, his footsteps muted by the soft soil. Adaora glanced up, surprised, her face pallid and stained with perspiration.
"You didn't see anything, Chidi," she said, her voice shaking but steady. "Go in. Now."
It was both an order and a plea. Something in her gaze warned him that knowing the truth would tie him in ways he couldn't quite understand.
The true turning point occurred months later, when Nneka vanished. The small girl had become a fixture in the home, her laughter an uncommon sound in an otherwise stressful environment. Chidi had often taken her to school, her conversations filling the van with tales about friends and favorite books. Then one day, she was gone.
Chidi first trusted the official story: Nneka had been moved to live with relatives. But rumors among the workers pointed to a darker reality. Then came the night when he was summoned to the study, where Dr. Dapo and Adaora were waiting.
The air was heavy with anxiety, and the room had a slight scent of alcohol. Dr. Dapo gave him a hefty envelope.
"You've been loyal to this family, Chidi," he continued, his tone measured. "We trust you'll continue to be."
Chidi opened the envelope and found a heap of cash. His gut twisted, but he pushed himself to meet Dapo's eyes.
"What do you want me to do?" he said, barely above a whisper.
Dr. Dapo slumped back in his chair, his face inscrutable. "Sometimes, devotion entails safeguarding the family's reputation. No questions, no hesitation. "Do you understand?"
Chidi nodded, but his chest felt heavy with unsaid facts.
The most terrifying recollection was the night he was summoned to the estate long after midnight. Adaora greeted him at the entrance, her face pale and her hands quivering.
"We need to move something," she remarked quietly.
He followed her into the garden, where a tarp lay on the ground, its contents concealed but undeniably substantial. Without saying anything, he helped hoist it into the car's trunk. Adaora guided him to a deserted road on the outskirts of town.
"Pull over," she said.
They dragged the tarp into the woods and buried it in a small grave. Chidi asked no questions, and Adaora provided no explanations. The quiet between them was stifling, interrupted only by the sound of shovels hitting earth.
Chidi had tried for years to persuade himself that he was merely following instructions and had no option. But remorse was always there, lingering in the back of his thoughts. He had become a part of their secret, participating in their deceptions.
Chidi felt the walls closing in as Tayo asked inquiries and pieced together the facts. He appreciated her boldness but was concerned about her safety. The Dapo family was not beyond taking extraordinary steps to defend their image.
That evening, Tayo faced him in the garage, her eyes burning with purpose. "Chidi, I'm sure you know something. "Please tell me the truth.
He glanced at her with his pulse beating. "Tayo, you don't know what you're getting into. "Let it go.
"I can't," she said. "Nneka deserves justice. Whatever occurred, it wasn't right."
Chidi groaned and ran a hand over his hair. "Do you think I don't know that? Do you think I don't feel the weight of it every day?
"Then help me," Tayo begged.
He paused, caught between his allegiance to the family and his own sense of morality. Finally, he said, his voice full of remorse.
"There's more buried in this house than you can imagine," he told you. "But if you probe too deeply, you won't like what you discover. They will not let you go away."
Tayo's expression did not change. "I am not scared, Chidi. I need to know.
Chidi turned aside, unwilling to face her stare. "You don't know what you're asking," he said gently. "But I'll tell you this: whatever you do, be cautious. "They are capable of anything."
Chidi felt guilty as Tayo went away. He had given her just enough to bolster her drive, but not enough to genuinely assist her. Part of him wanted to come clean, to rid himself of the secrets he'd kept for so long. But another part realized that doing so would put both of them in grave danger.
For the time being, he could only observe as Tayo drew closer to the truth, knowing that the closer she went, the higher the danger for everyone. And in the depths of his heart, he hoped he hadn't just sealed her destiny.