The rain had just begun to fall, gentle yet relentless, soaking the cobblestone streets of Emerald City. The neon lights flickered against the wet pavement, painting the world in streaks of gold and crimson. The scent of damp earth mixed with the faint aroma of freshly brewed coffee from a nearby café, yet none of it could calm the storm brewing inside Ochieng.
His hands were deep in his pockets, fingers clenched, as he walked toward a familiar street corner. He had stood there many times before, back when life was simpler, back when love felt like something eternal. But time had a cruel way of twisting fate, and tonight, he wasn't here for nostalgia.
He was here for Shalom.
She stood beneath the glow of a flickering streetlamp, her auburn hair damp from the misty rain, her eyes locked on him with an expression he couldn't quite read—pain, longing, and perhaps a hint of anger. She hadn't changed much. Or maybe she had. Ochieng couldn't tell if it was time that had hardened her gaze or the choices they had been forced to make.
"You shouldn't have come," Shalom whispered, her voice barely rising above the distant hum of the city.
Ochieng took a step closer. "And yet, here I am."
Her arms folded across her chest, a defensive barrier between them. "You disappeared for years, Ochieng. You never called, never wrote. And now you just show up like nothing happened?"
"I had my reasons."
"Reasons?" she scoffed, shaking her head. "Is that all you have to say?"
His jaw tightened. "Would you believe me if I told you I was protecting you?"
Silence. For a moment, all that existed was the rain, the city, and the aching space between them.
Then, the sound of tires screeching against wet asphalt broke the moment. A sleek black car rolled to a stop just a few feet away, its tinted windows shielding whoever sat inside. Ochieng tensed immediately. He recognized that car.
Shalom noticed the change in his posture. "Who is that?"
Ochieng didn't answer. He already knew.
The car door swung open, and from within, Derick stepped out, dressed in a black suit, his eyes glinting under the streetlight. He was taller than before, broader, more refined, but Ochieng knew better than to be fooled by appearances.
"Well, well," Derick smirked. "The ghost finally returns."
Shalom's fingers curled into fists. "Ochieng… who is he?"
Ochieng exhaled slowly, his mind already calculating escape routes, predicting the next move.
"Someone who should have stayed buried in the past."
But the past never stayed buried for long. And tonight, the past had finally come knocking.
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