For the next two days, the estate carried a strange kind of quiet — the kind that felt heavy, like the air itself was holding its breath.
Parents whispered in corners.
Neighbors double-checked their doors before sleeping.
Children stayed indoors, peeping through windows instead of playing football on the field.
But Ada… Ada couldn't stop replaying everything.
The midnight cry.
The trance-walking children.
The red light from Flat Seven.
And Chidi's voice shaking as he confessed.
Something wasn't right.
Something wasn't normal.
That evening, on her way back from the estate shop, Ada noticed Somto — the small boy from Flat Four — sitting alone beneath the mango tree. His tiny legs swung slowly, and his eyes looked puffy, like he hadn't slept well in days.
Ada walked to him and knelt gently.
"Somto, what is it? Are you okay?"
Somto didn't answer at first. He stared at the dusty ground, his fingers picking at a dry leaf.
When he finally spoke, his voice was small.
"Aunty Ada… it's about that man."
Ada's heartbeat stumbled.
She kept her voice calm. "Which man, Somto?"
"The man that knocks at night."
Cold swept down her spine.
"Somto… did you see him?"
He nodded slowly, fear stretching his eyes.
"Yes. That night… he came. He gave us biscuits. He said we should follow him. He said he wants to show us something."
Ada's breath caught.
"Jesus… Somto, did your mummy know about this?"
He shook his head quickly.
"No. He said we should not tell anybody. He said mummies don't understand."
Ada clenched her jaw. "Somto… why did you follow him?"
He hesitated. His lip trembled before he whispered:
"Because… he talks like someone we know."
Ada leaned closer.
"Who?"
Somto's shoulders stiffened.
He kept staring at his feet.
"Aunty… the man talks like Mr. Dike."
Ada felt the ground tilt beneath her.
Mr. Dike?
The same man who always carried his Bible?
The same man who always greeted children kindly?
Before she could ask more, Ada's phone buzzed in her pocket.
Emergency Estate Meeting
8:00 PM
Everybody must attend.
Ada looked back at Somto.
The boy held her sleeve lightly, almost begging.
"Aunty Ada… please don't let him come back."
Ada swallowed hard.
Something was shifting.
Something was pointing in one direction.
Either Mr. Dike was hiding something…
Or someone — or something — was pretending to be him.