By 8 PM, the estate hall felt like a pressure cooker.
Mothers clutched their children tightly.
Fathers stood with folded arms, eyes sharp.
Security men positioned themselves at the back.
And in the last row…
Mr. Dike sat quietly, hands folded, face unreadable.
Ada slipped into a corner seat, her stomach twisting with anxiety.
The chairman cleared his throat and raised a hand for silence.
"We are gathered here," he began, "to understand how several children in this estate left their homes at night — without their parents' knowledge."
A wave of murmurs swept through the hall.
He continued:
"A child reported seeing a man giving them biscuits… and telling them to follow him."
Gasps broke out.
A few people turned, almost too slowly, toward Mr. Dike.
He didn't flinch.
He didn't blink.
He just watched the chairman with calm eyes.
The vigilante leader stepped forward.
"We checked the security footage from that night," he announced. "The children walked out… but no adult appeared on any camera."
"What?" "That's impossible!" "So who opened their doors?!"
Chaos rippled through the room.
Ada's heart thudded hard.
If the cameras didn't catch anyone… then whoever was luring the children either knew the exact blind spots—
—or wasn't a normal person at all.
The vigilante leader continued:
"At this point, we have two explanations.
One — the children imagined everything.
Two — the adult carefully avoided the cameras."
More eyes shifted toward Mr. Dike.
Slowly… deliberately… he lifted his head.
His voice was calm — too calm.
The same tone Somto described.
"So… everyone here believes it is me?"
Silence swallowed the hall.
No chair moved.
No child cried.
Even the air felt frozen.
Then—
The hall door burst open.
A woman stumbled in, shaking, hair messy, voice cracking in terror:
"Help! Somebody help me! My daughter is missing! I've searched everywhere — she's gone!"
Screams.
Chairs falling.
People running out of the hall.
The meeting scattered into chaos instantly.
Ada's heart dropped to her stomach.
This wasn't suspicion anymore.
It had crossed the line.
It had become real.
And the night had only just begun.