And just like that, two weeks had slipped by like the wash of time.
Esther had spent the days cleaning the house from top to bottom, restocking the kitchen, refreshing the guest rooms, and making everything just right for her mother and sister's return, due in a few short hours. She should have been double-checking last-minute details, maybe even resting a bit before heading to the ferry. But somehow, Dija had managed to convince her into meeting at their usual restaurant down the road.
Now, seated with her arms folded and eyes fixed on her overly enthusiastic friend, Esther regretted every second of trusting her.
"Hey bestie," Dija cooed, batting her lashes as she slid into the seat across from her. "I'm sorry I lied, but I did it for your own good. I'm out here on a date with my soon-to-be boyfriend, and I thought, why not turn this into a double date?" She grinned unapologetically.
In the span of those two weeks, Dija had miraculously melted the steel shell off Thomas. Now here they were, on their official first date.
Which also meant, Esther had unknowingly walked into a setup. Again.
"I apologize if this makes you uncomfortable," Bakarr added politely, taking the seat beside Esther. "I was the one who asked her to call you."
Esther sighed, already defeated. "I'm not uncomfortable," she said evenly. "I just would've appreciated the truth, that's all."
Bakarr offered a gentle smile. "Then you won't mind if we enjoy this lunch together, will you?"
Before she could respond, Dija chimed in with a sugary, sing-song voice, "C'mon, Esther! He's sweet, charming, stable, and totally into you. Unlike certain people who shall remain unnamed." She threw a pointed glance in Thomas's direction, who just rolled his eyes.
"Why don't we just start by ordering something?" Thomas interjected, playing the role of the ever-sensible peacekeeper.
Esther exhaled, glancing at the time. It was already nearing 1:00 PM.
"I actually can't stay long," she finally said. "I've got a two o'clock ferry to catch, I'm heading to the airport to receive my mom and Zianab."
"Oh! You're picking them up yourself?" Bakarr asked, slightly leaning in.
"I promised I would," Esther replied, slipping her bag strap back over her shoulder. "It's important."
"Then I'll go with you," Bakarr offered, standing immediately. "Let me drop you off at the terminal at least. I insist."
Esther opened her mouth to decline, but Dija waved a hand dramatically between them.
"Say yes and save us all," she muttered in a theatrical whisper. "He's trying, and I really need this date to go smoothly."
Esther gave her friend a deadpan stare, but after a long pause, finally gave in with a sigh. "Fine. Just to get you both off my back."
Bakarr beamed, pulling her chair out like a gentleman. "Let's go, then."
They left the restaurant together, walking side by side out into the sunlit afternoon.
As the door shut behind them, Dija turned to Thomas with a grin. "You're welcome."
He raised an eyebrow. "For what? For ambushing your best friend and throwing her into a date without her consent?"
"Oh, come on," Dija said, tossing her braids. "She needed it. A little nudge, that's all."
Thomas chuckled under his breath, stirring his drink. "You're dangerous, you know that?"
"And yet, here you are," she said sweetly, sipping her soda. "Sitting across from me. Guess I'm not so terrible after all."
Thomas let out a breath of half amusement, half resignation. She was right. As chaotic and unpredictable as Dija was, there was something about her that drew him in, like a flame that knew it would burn but still dared you closer.
She was bold, magnetic, and unapologetically herself. A walking contradiction that turned his structured, logical world into a colorful, disorganized mess. And somehow… he didn't hate it.
"You know," he said slowly, swirling the straw in his drink, "you might just be the most distracting woman I've ever met."
Dija's eyes lit up with mischief. "Distracting is better than boring. So I'll take that as a compliment."
"You would."
"Besides," she added, leaning forward with a coy grin, "you like being distracted. Don't lie."
Thomas let out a quiet chuckle, shaking his head. "I'll plead the fifth."
"Coward."
"Strategist," he corrected, tapping the table once. "There's a difference."
Dija rested her chin in her palm, still smiling. "So… are we officially dating now? Or do I need to drag you out to three more of these before you admit you're into me?"
He raised a brow at her bluntness, then laughed under his breath. "You don't wait for anything, do you?"
"Time's precious, Thomas. Life's too short to play coy."
Before he could reply, his phone buzzed. He pulled it out with a sigh, expecting a low-priority team alert, only to straighten slightly at the name on the screen.
Mr Lewis.
He unlocked it and scanned the message:
"Return to Subdivision immediately. Need you in the main conference room. Urgent."
No details. No explanation. Just direct and commanding, typical Mr Lewis.
Thomas's features sobered as he slipped the phone back into his pocket and stood.
"Let me guess," Dija said, already watching him with a half-knowing look, "the boss calls."
"Yeah." He glanced toward the door, then back at her. "Something urgent. I've got to head back."
"Well," Dija stood too, brushing imaginary crumbs from her dress. "Just when things were getting interesting." Her grumble uncle couldn't just stand her having some private time with her man, well soon to be man.
Thomas looked at her, hesitated a second, then leaned closer. "I'll call you later."
"You better. Otherwise I'm showing up at your office in a scandalous dress and a box of cupcakes."
Thomas blinked. "That… actually sounds terrifying."
Dija winked. "Exactly."
As he turned and made his way out of the restaurant, Dija slid back into her seat with a satisfied hum, sipping the last of her drink.
Thomas was slipping. And she? She was just getting started.
At the far end of LewisTech's secondary facility, the NeuroSpeech subdivision buzzed with a quiet triumph. After months of setbacks, long nights, and relentless recalibrations, the project had finally shown consistent results.
Three child subjects, each previously locked in their silent world, had now formed their first vocal expressions using the system. Words once trapped in their minds had emerged in whispered, digitized clarity. Two adult patients had also responded positively, particularly a stroke survivor who'd been speechless for over a year.
Ibrahim stood with Alie near the observation deck, their faces radiant with accomplishment. The air smelled of warm coffee and something intangible, hope.
Daniel, dressed in a crisp slate-gray suit, stood at the far end of the glass wall, watching the playback of a child forming the word "Mama" through the speech interface. His usually unreadable expression gave way to something rare, pride.
"This…" he said under his breath, "is going to change lives."
Thomas entered then, his footsteps brisk but controlled. He nodded at Ibrahim and Alie before making his way directly to Daniel.
"You called me back, sir."
Daniel turned, the warmth in his eyes cooling into something sharper. "Yes. The testing went well. NeuroSpeech passed its first full field simulation. But that's not why you're here."
Thomas immediately straightened. "What's happened?"
Daniel reached into his coat pocket and handed him a manila envelope. "Inspector Mansaray tracked the movement of a burner phone used during the last transaction tied to our prototype leak. It was traced to a slum district outside Goderich. He cross-referenced CCTV and witness intel."
He tapped the folder. "Brima. The man Gara named. He's been seen in the area under a different alias. The inspector believes he's hiding out, possibly planning another sale."
Thomas opened the envelope slightly and skimmed the contents, a few blurry photos, a copy of the altered ID, and a handwritten note from the inspector.
"You want me to go there?" he asked, tone calm but alert.
Daniel nodded. "Take two plainclothes security from internal. Stay under radar. If Brima has the prototype backup or any intel on the buyers, I want it. We can't afford another leak."
"I'll leave immediately," Thomas said, tucking the file under his arm.
"One more thing." Daniel's voice lowered. "If he runs… don't chase. Observe. We don't need another public mess. But if he talks, get everything."
Thomas gave a single nod, then turned and headed out, already dialing security.
As the door shut behind him, Daniel glanced once more at the NeuroSpeech monitor. The system beeped gently in the background, echoing a child's halting but joyful voice.
One problem solved.
Another just beginning.
And right on it, Thomas and the two guards were at Goderich District, right in the heart of the local slums.
The narrow alley reeked of fish oil and old smoke, the kind that lingered on skin. Children darted past rickety stalls, and music spilled faintly from a cracked radio somewhere behind the zinc rooftops. Thomas walked briskly, dressed in a faded t-shirt and jeans. He blended in effortlessly. Two plainclothes security agents, Kallon and Moiba, trailed behind at staggered intervals.
According to the intel, Brima frequented a rundown betting kiosk at the back of the community. It was where he picked up burner SIM cards and sometimes traded coded packages for cash.
Thomas stopped a few feet from the corner stall, leaning casually against a wooden post. Kallon, already positioned inside a nearby shop, gave a subtle nod. The target was in place.
Then, Brima stepped out.
He wore a black baseball cap low over his eyes and clutched a worn nylon bag under his arm. He scanned the road quickly, unaware he was surrounded.
Thomas moved first.
He stepped in front of him smoothly. "Brima?"
Brima blinked, surprised, but trained. He dropped the bag and bolted.
Thomas didn't flinch. "Now!"
Kallon emerged from the left, Moiba from the right, boxing him in. Brima ducked low, tried to turn into the alley, but Thomas was already there. He grabbed him by the collar, spun him around, and slammed him hard against the rusted wall.
"You run again," Thomas said coldly, "and I'll break your legs."
Brima squirmed, eyes darting between them. "You got the wrong guy, man!"
"Sure we do," Kallon muttered, retrieving the nylon bag. Inside, exactly what they needed. A portable hard drive, two unregistered SIMs, and a flash drive labeled NS.AI_v3.0_copy.
Moiba clapped on the cuffs.
"Where'd you get this?" Thomas demanded, gripping his shirt. "And who else has it?"
Brima hesitated, but Thomas saw the fear flash through his eyes. "I, I didn't know what it was at first, I swear! Gara sold it off, but he told me to hold the backups, said some foreign buyers were circling."
"You're gonna give me names," Thomas said. "Every single one."
Brima nodded weakly.
"Good. Because if you don't," Thomas leaned in closer, "Gara will be the least of your problems."
He stepped back. "Take him to the van. We're heading straight to headquarters."
As they pulled Brima away, Thomas picked up the flash drive, holding it between his fingers like a ticking bomb. He didn't smile. There was still work to do. But this… this was a win.
He dialed Mr Lewis on the secure line. "We got him. And we got the backup."
"Kotor…" Amadou's voice echoed faintly through the lavish but dimly lit living room of the Jalloh estate. His steps were slow, uncertain, like a man walking into a lion's den. In his hand, a small note trembled.
Alhaji Jalloh looked up from his armchair, brows furrowing beneath his cap. "What is it?" he asked, already annoyed. "Have you finally succeeded this time? Or is it more bad news?"
Amadou hesitated. "I just got word… Brima's been caught. Daniel's people have him in custody."
"What did you say?" Alhaji's voice sliced through the room like a whip. He shot to his feet, eyes wild with fury. "Caught? How?"
"They've been tailing him for weeks," Amadou explained, his gaze lowering to the marble floor. "They found the backup too. The one copy we had, gone."
The sound of shattered glass cut through the air as Alhaji hurled his tumbler against the wall. "You're absolutely useless! One task, Amadou, one! That copy was our leverage!"
Amadou swallowed hard. "There's more… The last foreign buyer called. The prototype sent to him turned out to be a fake. He wants his money refunded."
Alhaji froze. His chest rose and fell rapidly. "What?"
"I think John tricked you," Amadou said carefully. "He might've replaced the real one. Or maybe Fatmata, she had access too."
Albanian shook his head, John was no snitch nor would he dare played him. "No. John wouldn't do that. It had to be that stupid woman. What's the update on her?" he asked, voice low but deadly.
"She's still not talking," Amadou reported. "Hasn't mentioned a name. Just… silence."
Alhaji exhaled through clenched teeth, slowly lowering himself back into his seat. "Good. At least that's one problem that hasn't exploded yet."
He leaned back, the shadows of frustration tightening on his face. "Inform John immediately about Brima's arrest. I want him shut, by any means necessary."
Amadou nodded grimly. "Understood."
"And get the new drive prepared," Alhaji added, picking up a tablet and scrolling rapidly. "Your Jaja and niece arrive today. I want you at the airport to receive them. It's time they come home."
It had been a month since he sent his wife and daughter away to lay low while the dust from the failed schemes settled. Now that things had cooled and Daniel seemed to have lost interest in the hit-and-run case, it was finally time for his wife to return home.
He paused, his voice lowering to something more sinister. "I want everything about us cleaned up before Jariatu walks into this house. I won't have her asking questions."
Amadou straightened. "I'll take care of it."
"Do more than take care of it, fix it, Amadou. Or next time, you'll be the one I cut loose."
With that, Alhaji turned away, leaving his brother standing in the quiet wreckage of another failed plan, only this time, the clock was ticking louder than ever.
It was just about six in the evening when Esther returned home from the airport with her sister Zainab and their mother, Musu. Throughout the day, Bakarr had insisted on tagging along, helping at every turn, and he was now the one driving them home in his car.
"Essie," Zainab leaned in to whisper once they were inside, her tone laced with curiosity. "Who is he? He's been with you since we arrived at the airport and now he's driving us home?"
Her sister's instinct was kicking in full gear. The way Bakarr had handled their luggage, the way he hovered protectively, his eagerness to help, it didn't feel random. It felt personal.
"Is he your boyfriend?"
"No," Esther replied quickly. "He's just a friend," she added, trying to sound casual.
Zainab raised an eyebrow. "Look, I've got no problem with you having a boyfriend. You're more than responsible enough to make that decision. But something about him… his kindness feels a little too rehearsed. Like he has an ulterior motive."
Esther sighed and shook her head with a small smile. "He's just a colleague. And no, he doesn't have any hidden motives."
But deep down, she knew Bakarr's attentiveness wasn't as selfless as she made it out to be. His charm and gentleness, especially toward her family, were all part of his quiet strategy to win her over.
Just then, Musu's voice pulled her from the exchange.
"Esther," her mother called, glancing around the living room, "where's your sister Sarah? I haven't seen her."
Esther hurried to her mother's side and wrapped her arms gently around her.
"Ma, Sarah had an important meeting to attend. But she'll be back soon, I promise," she lied, her voice warm and convincing. In truth, she had begged Sarah to come along to pick up their mother, but as always, Sarah had excused herself, promising instead to meet them at home later.
"Till then," Esther added playfully, "can you just shower me with all the love? I've missed you so much, ma."
Musu smiled and kissed her daughter's forehead, the years of worry and pain softening in her gaze. "I've missed you too, both of you. I couldn't wait to return. Thank God I'm finally back."
Esther lifted her head, her heart full, only for Musu's expression to shift slightly.
"Also, look at you. You've gotten so thin. What have you even been feeding on?" she asked, worry coloring her tone.
"Ma," Esther laughed, nudging her gently, "you know this is how I've always been. This is just my body."
"Yes, but I feel it's reduced even more. Probably because I haven't been here to cook for you," Musu replied, her eyes full of concern.
"Mother," Zainab cut in, joining them with a grin, "you're just fishing for an excuse to get back in that kitchen. But I'm not letting you."
"What? Who's going to cook for you children then?" Musu protested. "I can't just sit by and watch you starve!"
"Ma, we won't starve if you don't cook," Esther said firmly but affectionately. "Your health comes first. Forget about cooking for now and tell me, how are you really feeling?"
Esther gently guided her mother to the living room couch, sitting beside her like a child again.
Musu sighed as she settled into the cushions. "As you can see, I'm doing alright. The doctors over there did a marvelous job keeping me alive. I feel stronger than I have in months."
"That's such a relief," Esther said softly, resting her head on her mother's shoulder again. "I'm just so glad you're back and healthy. I've missed you terribly, Mom."
As the chatter and laughter settled into the rhythm of homecoming, Musu reclined peacefully on the sofa, catching up with Zainab. Esther moved to gather the bags when Bakarr stepped forward, flashing his usual warm grin.
"I can take care of dinner," he offered easily. "You all must be tired, especially Aunty. Just show me where everything is, and I'll whip something up."
"Aunty?" Zianab asked in a teaseful tone , "I'd no idea you were this close"
And before Zianab could say further, Esther shot her a stop look.
"What, am only being welcoming" she innocently said raising her hands in defeat.
"So, am going to make dinner" Bakarr cut in,
But Esther raised a hand immediately, shaking her head. "Oh no, you've done enough already, Bakarr. You're not cooking too."
Zainab, however, crossed her arms and leaned against the doorframe with a smirk. "Why not? Let the man cook, Essie. From what I see, he's very eager to impress, might as well put it to good use."
Esther shot her sister a look, but Zainab only winked and strolled off.
Bakarr laughed, heading toward the kitchen. "Well, looks like I've been officially recruited."
Moments later, he was by the stove, cracking eggs and setting rice to boil with the ease of someone who'd done this a hundred times before. Esther, unable to let him handle it alone, eventually joined him in the kitchen.
She leaned lightly against the counter, watching as he moved around. "Thank you… for everything today," she said quietly. "From the airport to helping us settle in, you didn't have to, but you did."
Bakarr glanced at her, a soft smile tugging at his lips. "You're welcome. I wanted to. Honestly, it didn't feel like a chore. Spending time with you, it's never hard."
Esther chuckled softly, lowering her gaze to the floor for a moment. There was sincerity in his voice, one she couldn't ignore.
He stirred the egg mixture, letting the aroma of sautéed onions and fresh herbs fill the kitchen. "Besides, I've always believed food is the fastest way to win hearts. Or at least… soften them."
Before Esther could reply, Zainab popped into the kitchen, grinning wide.
"Okay, lovebirds, wrap up the romance session and get that food out here. Some of us are starving," she teased.
Esther rolled her eyes. "Zee, seriously?"
But Bakarr only laughed, unbothered. "Coming right up, ma'am."
As Zainab vanished again, Esther shook her head with a shy smile and turned to help him plate the rice. For a moment, the kitchen felt like a warm bubble, filled with scents, comfort, and something almost tender brewing between them.
Dinner had never felt this lively in the Cole house in months. The table, once quiet and heavy with distance, now brimmed with warmth and laughter. Musu, seated at the head, kept smiling between bites, clearly enjoying the meal.
"This rice and egg stew is delicious," she said, dabbing her mouth with a napkin. "Bakarr, right? You cook better than my girls."
Zainab gasped dramatically. "Ma!"
Esther chuckled, shaking her head. "Don't encourage him."
"I'm just saying the truth," Musu replied, directing a grateful glance at Bakarr. "Thank you, son. For cooking, and for taking care of my daughters today."
"It was a pleasure, ma," Bakarr said with an honest smile. "They deserve the best."
Esther tried not to react to that line, but Zainab caught the subtle shift in her eyes and kicked her playfully under the table. She gave her a warning look, to which Esther responded with a glare.
Zainab cleared her throat. "So, Bakarr, how come you're still single with all these skills?"
Musu laughed while Esther nearly choked on her water.
Bakarr grinned, unfazed. "Maybe because the one I want keeps turning me down."
Everyone caught that, but Musu and Zainab exchanged a quick, knowing glance and let it slide, for now.
When the plates were cleared and Musu insisted they leave the dishes for tomorrow, Bakarr stood and dusted his hands. "I should get going now. It's getting late."
Zainab walked him halfway through the hallway but then stopped. "Esther will see you out," she said quickly before disappearing back into the living room with their mother.
Esther sighed but followed him out all the same.
The evening air was calm. The night sky stretched wide, stars blinking above like they knew a secret neither of them could speak aloud.
At the porch, Bakarr turned to her, hands in his pockets. "Thanks again for today. It felt… good. Being around you and your family."
"You're always welcome here," Esther said softly. "They like you."
"Do you?" he asked, eyes meeting hers fully now.
Esther blinked. "Bakarr…"
"I know you've said no before," he cut in gently, "but I'd hate myself if I didn't ask again. Can I be your boyfriend? For real this time. No pressure, just a simple try. If you ever feel it's not working, we can walk away no hard feelings. But I want a chance."
Esther looked away for a moment. The weight of her past, of Daniel, of heartbreak, of confusion, still lingered somewhere inside. But something about Bakarr had always been honest, safe, and consistent. A part of her longed for that now. Something different. Something simple.
She turned back to him, her voice soft but firm. "Okay."
He blinked. "Okay?"
"I'll give us a try."
A breath escaped his chest like he'd been holding it for months. A smile stretched wide across his face, joy quiet and real. He didn't jump or shout, just stood there, looking at her like she mattered.
"You won't regret this," he said.
"I hope not," she whispered, then reached up to brush a hand along his arm. "Good night, Bakarr."
"Good night… girlfriend."
She rolled her eyes, smiling despite herself.
He walked away under the moonlight, hands in his pocket and a spring in his step, while Esther lingered at the doorway just a moment longer.
For the first time in a long while, she didn't feel heavy. Maybe this was how moving on began, not with fireworks or confessions under the rain, but with quiet decisions, safe smiles, and the hope that tomorrow might just be better than yesterday.