"Nelly, I have a friend named Samuel. He's also my research partner."
She looked up, confused. Strangely, it was the first time she was hearing both her name and surname in the same sentence—referring to different people.
Nelly sensed foul play in her annoying boyfriend's voice, even as his face maintained its usual innocence. How could its cuteness lie to her?
"I hope he's not an imaginary friend."
His face changed—not anger. She'd never seen Ken angry before. But she suspected his next action.
That evening after lectures, he changed their route home. Soon they stood before a big house. She quickly recognized it as Professor Adebayo's residence.
The door opened. A frail, dark boy stepped out.
"Nelly, this is my friend Samuel." Ken smiled. "Samuel, this is my girlfriend, Nelly."
It was a memorable memory—the first time Ken had called her his girlfriend.
---
Present Day
That frail boy—who had looked impossibly thinner than Ken—was now large. Taller than Kelvin by an inch or two, but bigger and wider than both of them combined.
It had been more than thirteen years since she last saw him. Nelly doubted he would recognize her.
Still, he stood there even after the exchange with her boss.
Kelvin turned to her. "She'll be accompanying you through the process. Her name is Nelly—"
"Samuel." The hoarse voice echoed.
"You two know each other?" Kelvin's cold voice finally carried a hint of recognition.
"How could I forget."
Nelly stood there, dazed. How could he say he remembers, and never reached out? She'd even looked for him...
How could I forget, my foot.
Fury rose within her. The smile on his face had died when he saw her, but that wasn't enough. She wanted to—
What the hell was he doing here?
"If that'll be all, you can take him to the visitor area and get to work."
Kelvin stared at her, words hanging in his throat. Or she was just seeing things.
---
"What are you doing here, Samuel?" Nelly's voice sparked with barely contained anger. She'd scanned the hallway—empty.
Every colour drained from Samuel's face. A second later, a faint smile appeared.
"It's really nice to see you again, Nelly."
"Don't give me that. Where did you go? How did you vanish when your friend was murdered in cold blood?"
Nelly tried and failed to steady her rising breath.
"And this—" She gestured wildly. "—is that not the bio-diesel prototype he built? How does it say here you're the inventor?"
"I understand how you feel." His voice was pitiful. "But you should know—my dad arranged that scholarship. I'd gone to take the exams." He paused. "I was heartbroken too, when I came back and heard what happened. I'm sorry for what you went through. I know it doesn't change anything, but—" He hesitated. "It's been twelve years, Nelly. Why haven't you moved on?"
Nelly fought to keep herself from breaking down. He was the first person to acknowledge her grief. That would have been fine, but he had to end with that tone.
"You know what everyone kept telling me the first five years?"
His eyes grew curious. "Do tell."
"At first, they consoled me. Or tried their best. After a year, they grew tired. 'No one mourns that long,' they said. 'I didn't even mourn my own father that long.' Then, at last, discernment came on the sixth year. That heartless question: Why haven't you moved on?"
A tear streamed freely down her cheek.
"And I tried. God knows I did. But I didn't know how to process my grief. Was it the fact I suggested the route? Or the fact it happened right after he told me he loved me?" Her voice began breaking. "Then somewhere, I made my peace. Or I thought I did."
She swallowed hard.
"All of a sudden, a year later, a new startup emerged. And its breakthrough product was that bio-digester—the one he designed. It seemed even hell didn't want me to know peace. I tried to write it off as coincidence. Then the next product came. And the next."
"Nelly, calm down." Worry filled his face.
"Don't tell me that. I need explanations, Samuel. Why did everyone move on so quickly? Ken was the star of your department. Why did no one mourn him? Tell me why, Samuel." Her voice rose. "And why did you claim credit for his product?"
"I'll have to stop you there, Miss Nelly." His voice suddenly grew sterner. "Are you insinuating I killed my friend over a product?"
He leaned forward.
"For your information, we worked on that together. You of all people knew Ken's reason for developing these products. Do you think he'd want them disappearing after his death?"
Tears flowed freely now. Ken had wanted to help people. All his products were meant to be free, affordable—not this monopoly Akor was creating.
"I wasn't the one who submitted the first prototype," Samuel continued. "The engineers here built something similar first. Only when it didn't work was I called in. I took the honours after fixing it."
"But—but—" Nelly stuttered, struggling to form words.
Silence filled the large hall. A moment ago, an outsider would have thought a great commotion was happening within. Nelly's voice had gotten so high she'd had to stop herself. Now she sat in a state of utter confusion.
"I believe you're here on official duties, Miss Nelly." His voice turned stiff. "Please, let's not waste more time."
Then he leaned in.
"I suspected that's why you're here. I'm going to advise you, as a former acquaintance and a friend of Ken's—Akor is clean. Established seven years ago. Has nothing to do with Ken's death." He sighed. "We've all accepted that fact."
His face had distorted, all trace of familiarity disappearing. He adjusted himself in his seat.
"Now, can we get back to business?" He smiled—but it didn't reach his eyes. "I want to sell that damn patent and get it over with."
Nelly's heart skipped a beat. Nothing made sense. If Samuel had simply fixed an Akor prototype, why claim full rights—only to sell it later?
More importantly, why now? After seeing its value accumulate? After watching demand soar?
She felt like she was missing something. Who had designed the first product Samuel fixed?
Watching the big man, she felt lost again. Her heart still wept. The faint hope of getting credible information from Samuel had disappeared. He was hiding something. His father, who had headed the department—
No. That wasn't it. A pounding started in her head.
"Okay, fine. Let's get back to business."
The rest of their conversation progressed mechanically. Nelly received and corrected the remaining details. The projected value to be settled to Samuel was five billion naira.
The question resounded in her mind: Why was he selling? Why now?
A few more minutes, and they were done. The big man stood, adjusting his kaftan. He walked toward the door.
Just before the automatic door slid open—
"Samuel."
Her eyes were emotionless. Concern flickered across his face as he turned.
"This is not over."
---
A few hours later, Nelly walked through a shopping mall with Sarah. She'd had a totally different idea when she suggested they hang out, but given the kind of day she'd had, something simple was just fine.
Sarah was in her usual cheerful mode. They chatted about many things, and soon the conversation headed in a new direction.
One Nelly dreaded.
"Are you single, Nelly?"
Her heartbeat skipped. It had been so long since she'd had a normal conversation with a girl her age—she'd forgotten what it was like. Amanda was like an overprotective elder sister, despite being only months older.
She sighed. "Yes."
"Really?" Sarah studied her from head to toe. "Hard to believe a girl like you is single."
"You know how it is. Haven't moved on from my ex. Don't know if I'm ready yet."
"Come on, girl. Don't sell yourself short. Even here, you can see guys stealing glances. If only they were more bold..." Sarah's eyes twinkled. "Or is there a crush, perhaps?"
"No. No one." Nelly would have given anything to end this conversation. It was getting worse by the minute. But the happy girl had other plans.
Sarah leaned in conspiratorially. "What do you think about Kelvin?"
Nelly spat out her drink.
"What?"