When The Crow Flies: Chapter 1

The bus wheezed to a stop, brakes squealing, as it pulled into the small station on the outskirts of town. Adesuwa stepped down, her feet landing on familiar ground that felt strangely foreign. She looked around, taking in the town she’d once called home. The buildings were the same, but everything felt different now—sharper, colder. The air was thick, carrying the scent of damp earth and something else she couldn’t quite place. She pulled her small bag over her shoulder, her only possession now, and took a deep breath.

People walked past her, heads turning with each step she took down the main street. She could feel their eyes on her, the weight of their gazes pressing down like lead. She could almost hear their thoughts, silent accusations, curiosity mixed with contempt. The whispers started, low murmurs she couldn’t quite make out but felt deep in her bones.

“That’s her,” she caught a voice say as she passed a small group outside the grocery store.

Adesuwa kept her head high, her expression steely. She’d had ten years to build this armor, ten years to perfect the look that said she was unbreakable, even though the cracks ran deep beneath the surface. She’d spent a decade as a prisoner, but now she was here to reclaim her life, or at least what was left of it.

Her family’s house was at the end of the street, standing alone with a paint job that was fading, windows grimy and unwashed. The front yard was overgrown with weeds, and the old wooden gate creaked as she pushed it open. The house had always looked a little worse for wear, but now it seemed abandoned, empty. She felt a pang of longing, of pain for the years lost, for a family torn apart by shame and whispers.

The door was locked, so she knocked, hoping against hope that someone might still be there. Silence answered. She stood on the porch, her hand lingering on the faded paint. This house had once been filled with laughter, with the sound of her mother’s cooking and her father’s deep voice. Now, it felt like a grave.

She turned and looked around, her eyes landing on Mrs. Fola’s house next door. Mrs. Fola had been like a second mother to her, a kind woman who’d always welcomed her with open arms. Adesuwa made her way over and knocked, heart pounding in her chest. The door opened slowly, revealing a frail woman with sharp, questioning eyes.

“Mrs. Fola,” Adesuwa began, forcing a small smile.

The old woman’s eyes widened, and she took a step back. “Adesuwa?” she whispered, a mixture of shock and caution in her voice.

“It’s me,” Adesuwa replied, trying to keep her voice steady.

Mrs. Fola stepped outside, glancing around nervously before finally meeting Adesuwa’s gaze. “What are you doing here?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

“I came back… I came back to find out what really happened. To clear my name,” Adesuwa replied, determination flaring in her eyes.

The old woman shook her head, looking away. “You shouldn’t have come back,” she muttered, glancing back towards the empty house. “Your family… they left after the trial. Couldn’t stand the shame. Packed up and went somewhere far. They never told anyone where. Said it was better that way.”

Adesuwa swallowed, feeling a fresh wave of loss wash over her. “They didn’t even tell me,” she whispered, more to herself than to Mrs. Fola. The reality was a heavy, suffocating weight. She had no family, no one waiting for her. She was truly alone.

Mrs. Fola looked at her, her gaze softening just a little. “People here haven’t forgotten, Adesuwa. And they haven’t forgiven, either. I don’t know what you plan to do, but this town isn’t the place it used to be.”

“I have to find out the truth,” Adesuwa replied, a slight edge creeping into her voice. She’d been silent for too long, accepting a guilt that was never hers. It was time to fight back.

Mrs. Fola sighed, shaking her head. “Be careful,” she said, her voice laced with warning. “Some people don’t want the past to be dug up. You’re playing with fire.”

The conversation ended abruptly as Mrs. Fola slipped back inside her house, leaving Adesuwa standing alone. She turned back to her family’s home, an emptiness settling in her chest. This was the reality she’d returned to—a world where the ghosts of the past were her only company.

As she stepped onto the porch once more, her foot brushed against something crumpled, wedged under the doorframe. Frowning, she bent down and picked it up—a small, tattered piece of paper. She unfolded it, her eyes scanning the hastily scrawled message:

You should have stayed away.

Her heart skipped a beat, and her pulse quickened. Someone knew she was back. Someone who didn’t want her asking questions, didn’t want her unearthing what lay buried in this town. She could almost feel their eyes on her, watching, waiting.

A chill ran down her spine, but she squared her shoulders, gripping the note tightly. She hadn’t come back to be scared off. Whoever had left this note underestimated her. She was here for answers, and she wasn’t leaving until she had them.