Even as the compound returned to its usual rhythm, Ada couldn't shake the feeling that something remained unspoken.
She found Mr. Dike sitting alone near the gate, eyes fixed on the pale morning sky.
"Sir?" she asked softly.
He didn't turn immediately. Silence stretched between them, heavy and quiet.
Finally, he spoke, his voice low, almost a whisper.
"There's something I never told anyone," he said.
Ada's heart skipped. She knew this was important.
"The child," he continued slowly, "was not the only one."
He paused, closing his eyes.
"Before she appeared… there was another. Many years ago… another child disappeared under the same circumstances. I tried to protect them both… but I failed. The guilt… the fear… it's been with me ever since I moved in here."
Ada felt a lump rise in her throat.
She had always thought Mr. Dike's concern was only for the child in Flat Seven.
But the truth was heavier, darker, tragic.
"I couldn't leave," he whispered.
"Every time I tried, the child's presence grew stronger. I stayed because I didn't want anyone else to suffer… but I've carried their pain with me for years. I've been living a nightmare that wasn't even mine."
Ada's eyes filled with tears.
Chidi's hand trembled as he held hers.
The tragedy was real. The loss spanned decades.
And the estate had been living in quiet fear all this time, without knowing it.
Mr. Dike looked at her, his gaze pleading.
"Please… remember, Ada… courage is not just facing what you see. Sometimes it is facing what no one else will believe exists."
Ada nodded slowly, her heart heavy but understanding.
Some stories are meant to heal… even if they break your heart first.