Chapter 1: Shadows of the Past

I stared at the clock. The slow, methodical ticking seemed louder than usual, each second stretching longer than the last. The classroom was buzzing with the murmurs of my classmates, but I was far removed from it all. My body was there, front row as usual, but my mind... well, it was someplace else.

“Reni, you coming to lunch?”

I turned to see Dani, one of the few people I tolerated at school, standing beside my desk. Her wide eyes were hopeful, but I could already feel the words forming at the back of my throat. I knew what I’d say. I’d repeat it, just like every other day.

“No, I’ve got some things to finish up.”

Dani hesitated, clearly disappointed but too polite to press the matter. “Alright. Maybe tomorrow?”

“Maybe,” I replied, already knowing that tomorrow would be no different.

I watched her walk away, joining the group that always surrounded her. They were laughing, carefree, and for a brief moment, I wondered what it would feel like to be part of something like that. But I shook off the thought almost as quickly as it had come. I didn’t need that. I had my grades, my plans, my future. People just got in the way.

When the bell finally rang, I packed up my books and slung my bag over my shoulder, making my way out of the classroom and through the narrow halls. The walls of the school seemed to close in on me the longer I stayed, but once I stepped outside, the air felt lighter.

Home was a fifteen-minute walk, not that I was in a rush. The streets were familiar, the same cracked sidewalks and worn-down houses that had become part of my daily routine. Yet, no matter how predictable the scenery was, I never felt at ease.

Home. It was just a word now, a place that should have been safe, comforting, but somehow it wasn’t. It hadn’t been for a long time.

As I approached the house, I saw Kunle’s car parked out front. Great. He was home early. I braced myself for the inevitable inquisition. Walking up the narrow path, I paused just before opening the front door. The noise from inside hit me first—voices, deep and loud, probably an argument. I sighed. There was always something brewing between my brothers.

The moment I stepped inside, Kunle’s voice boomed from the living room. “Reni, you’re late.”

“I walked,” I replied, kicking off my shoes and leaving them in a messy pile by the door.

Kunle, the eldest, was always the first to remind me of things I hadn’t done—or, in this case, things I had done but shouldn’t have. He stood up, towering over me with that overbearing look he had perfected over the years.

“Dapo said he could’ve picked you up,” Kunle continued, arms crossed over his broad chest.

“I’m fine,” I muttered, trying to sidestep him and head to my room.

“Reni—”

“I’m fine,” I repeated, my voice sharper now. “I don’t need to be picked up every day. I’m not a child.”

Kunle’s jaw tightened, but he didn’t argue. Instead, he exchanged a glance with Dapo, who was leaning against the wall, arms folded. He said nothing, but the silent agreement between them was clear: they didn’t trust me to take care of myself. Not after everything that had happened.

I climbed the stairs quickly, ignoring the heavy tension that hung in the air behind me. My room was the only place where I could pretend things were normal, even if it was just a lie I told myself. I shut the door, the soft click giving me a small sense of control, and dropped my bag on the floor.

Sitting on the edge of my bed, I stared out the window. The sun was setting, casting an orange glow over the neighborhood, but all I could see were the shadows creeping in. They were always there—shadows of a past that clung to me, no matter how hard I tried to outrun them.

I thought about the looks Kunle and Dapo had exchanged downstairs. The way they watched me, always careful, always on edge. They’d been like that ever since... well, ever since the incident—the thing no one ever talked about. Not openly, anyway.

It had been three years, but time hadn’t healed anything. If anything, it had only made the distance between us more pronounced. I loved my brothers, I really did, but there was a wall between us now. One made of guilt, fear, and a whole lot of unsaid things.

Wale, the middle brother, was the only one who seemed somewhat unaffected by the suffocating protectiveness that defined Kunle and Dapo. He was the easygoing one, the peacemaker, but even he was different now—quieter, more careful with his words around me.

My phone buzzed, breaking my train of thought. It was a text from Dani.

You sure you’re okay?

I stared at the message for a long time before typing back a quick Yeah, just busy.

It wasn’t a complete lie. I was busy. Busy trying to hold myself together, busy trying to pretend like I wasn’t haunted by the weight of what had happened. Busy avoiding everyone who tried to get too close.

I threw my phone onto the bed and got up, pacing the room. The memories were always there, just below the surface, waiting for any quiet moment to drag me back under.

The sound of a knock on the door startled me, and Wale’s head peeked in. “You okay?”

I nodded, though I wasn’t sure if it was more to convince him or myself. He stepped into the room, closing the door behind him, and sat on the edge of my desk.

“You know, you don’t have to keep doing this,” he said softly. “You don’t have to shut us out.”

I crossed my arms, leaning against the window. “I’m not shutting anyone out.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Reni, you barely talk to us anymore. I mean, I get it, you’re independent, you don’t need us hovering over you, but it’s not just that, is it?”

I didn’t answer. Instead, I stared out the window again, avoiding his gaze.

“Look,” he continued, “I know Kunle and Dapo can be a bit... much. They’re just trying to protect you.”

“I don’t need protecting.”

“That’s not the point.” Wale sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “You’ve changed. We all have. But we can’t help you if you don’t let us.”

“I don’t need help.”

Wale stood up, shaking his head. “You’re not as invisible as you think you are, Reni. We can see the cracks, even if you pretend they aren’t there.”

His words hit me harder than I wanted to admit. But I wasn’t about to let him see that.

“Just... leave it, okay? I’m fine.”

He hesitated for a moment before nodding slowly. “Alright. But remember, we’re here. Whenever you’re ready.”

I didn’t respond as he left the room, closing the door behind him. My chest tightened, and I sank down onto the bed, burying my face in my hands. I wasn’t sure if I was angry at Wale for pushing or at myself for not letting him in.

The truth was, I didn’t know how to let anyone in anymore. Not after the incident. Not after everything had changed.

The room felt colder as the evening wore on. The shadows outside grew longer, darker, and I couldn’t shake the feeling that they were closing in on me, just like they always did.

---

I spent the rest of the evening buried in my textbooks, trying to lose myself in equations and historical dates. Numbers made sense; facts made sense. People didn’t.

By the time I went downstairs for dinner, the house was quieter. Kunle and Dapo were watching TV, their faces lit up by the flickering light of the screen. Wale was in the kitchen, stirring something on the stove.

“Hey,” he said when he saw me, his voice softer than before.

“Hey,” I replied, grabbing a plate.

We ate in relative silence, but the tension from earlier hadn’t completely disappeared. It was still there, lurking under the surface, waiting for the right moment to resurface.

I glanced at my brothers—Kunle, serious and watchful; Dapo, quiet and thoughtful; Wale, trying to hold us all together. They were my family, but somehow, I felt more alone now than ever.

As I finished my meal, Kunle spoke up. “You’re not going to shut us out forever, Reni.”

I didn’t look at him. Instead, I focused on my plate, my hands trembling just slightly.

“Yeah,” I mumbled, not sure if I was making a promise to him or myself.

Because deep down, I wasn’t sure I even knew how to stop.