When the Crow Flies

Adesuwa walked through the winding streets, feeling the weight of a decade’s worth of memories pressing down on her. Each corner, each storefront brought back images of a different time—a time before everything shattered. She passed by familiar faces, some looking away quickly, others casting suspicious glances, as if she were a ghost haunting the town.

Her destination was a small, faded yellow house on the corner, its white picket fence now splintered and leaning. It was Kemi’s house, where she’d spent countless hours laughing and sharing secrets with her best friend. She hadn’t seen Kemi since the trial, but she hoped that perhaps some remnants of their friendship had survived.

She took a steadying breath and knocked on the door. After a long pause, the door opened a crack, and Kemi’s face appeared. Her eyes widened as she recognized Adesuwa, and an awkward silence hung between them.

“Kemi,” Adesuwa said, forcing a smile. “It’s been a long time.”

Kemi’s expression was unreadable, a mixture of shock, discomfort, and something else—fear, maybe? She finally stepped back and opened the door fully, letting Adesuwa in. The house smelled faintly of lavender, just as it always had. But now, the scent seemed somehow faded, like a memory half-forgotten.

They settled into the small living room, Kemi perched on the edge of her chair, as if ready to spring up and bolt at any moment. Adesuwa sat on the couch, her hands clasped tightly in her lap. For a moment, neither spoke, the silence stretching between them.

“So,” Adesuwa began, breaking the tension. “I’m sure you know why I’m back.”

Kemi looked down at her hands, avoiding Adesuwa’s gaze. “People are talking,” she replied quietly. “They always do.”

“I’m here to clear my name, Kemi. I need to know what really happened that night,” Adesuwa said, watching her friend closely.

Kemi’s face tightened, and she shook her head. “You shouldn’t have come back, Adesuwa. It’s dangerous for you here. Things… things have changed.”

Adesuwa leaned forward, her voice low and urgent. “Dangerous? What do you mean? Kemi, I need answers. You testified at the trial. You said you didn’t know where I was that night, but you and I both know that’s not true. I had no alibi because of what you said. Why?”

Kemi’s face flushed, and she glanced away. “I don’t owe you anything, Adesuwa. Do you know what it was like here after you went to prison? People looked at me like I was a liar. They whispered about me, too. I did what I had to do to survive.”

Adesuwa’s fists clenched, but she kept her tone calm. “You were my best friend. We grew up together. You knew me better than anyone. How could you just turn your back on me like that?”

Kemi’s gaze finally met Adesuwa’s, her eyes hard. “You don’t understand. I was scared. People were saying things, terrible things. I didn’t want to be dragged down with you. I had to think about my own life, my own future.”

Adesuwa felt a pang of anger and sadness twist in her chest. She’d lost so much—her freedom, her family, and now it seemed, the friendship she’d once valued above all else.

“So that’s it? You lied because you were scared? Do you even care what happened to me?” Adesuwa’s voice trembled slightly, and she bit back tears.

Kemi looked away, her expression unreadable. “I did what I had to do, Adesuwa. And if you’re smart, you’ll do the same. Just leave. Go somewhere else and start over. Digging up the past won’t bring you anything but pain.”

Adesuwa stood up, the finality of Kemi’s words hitting her like a punch to the gut. She searched her friend’s face for any sign of regret, any hint that their bond hadn’t been completely shattered. But Kemi’s gaze was empty, a hollow shell of the girl she once knew.

Without another word, Adesuwa turned and walked toward the door. She stepped outside, the cool evening air hitting her skin, grounding her. She wanted to scream, to cry, to let the bitterness and betrayal pour out of her, but she forced herself to stay calm. She couldn’t afford to fall apart now.

As she made her way back down the cracked sidewalk, she noticed a figure standing at the end of the street, half-hidden by the shadows. They were watching her, unmoving, their face obscured by the dim light. Her heart skipped a beat, and she quickened her pace, determined to confront whoever was lurking there.

But as she approached, the figure slipped into the darkness, disappearing before she could catch a glimpse of their face. Adesuwa stood in the empty street, her breath coming in shallow gasps. Whoever it was, they’d been watching her closely, and they’d made sure she knew it.

She turned back toward the road, her mind racing with questions. Who was it? Why were they watching her? And what did they know about the night that had changed her life forever?

In the growing darkness, she felt a familiar, creeping sensation—she was being drawn into a game she didn’t fully understand. But one thing was clear: someone didn’t want her here, and they were willing to do whatever it took to make her leave.

Adesuwa squared her shoulders and walked away, her resolve hardening with every step. She wasn’t going anywhere until she had answers. And whoever was watching her would have to do more than lurk in the shadows to scare her off.