Amaka stopped picking Ebuka's calls.
She knew it was dangerous to push him away, especially now that he had begun to suspect something was wrong, but she didn't trust herself to speak without breaking down.
What would she say?
That her dead husband was sending her videos?
That she saw him at the hospital wearing the same face he had in her memories?
That she wasn't even sure what was real anymore?
She barely slept. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw that face again. Not in the smiling way she used to love, but staring through her with cold, unreadable eyes.
She wanted to scream, to tell the world that her husband might not be dead after all. But she had no proof. Just a flickering video and a name whispered like a curse at her wedding.
She held her pillow tighter.
The room was quiet.
Too quiet.
The kind of silence that doesn't feel peaceful. The kind that makes your skin crawl. She could hear the tick of her wall clock like it was thumping right in her ear.
Suddenly, her phone buzzed on the bedside table.
She froze.
The screen lit up. Unknown Number.
Amaka's heart pounded. She didn't want to answer, but her finger moved on its own. She picked the call.
There was no voice on the other end. Just slow breathing. Heavy. Deliberate.
l
Then the call ended.
She flung the phone across the bed. Her chest was tight. Her mind was spinning. Who was doing this to her?
She wasn't sure what scared her more, the idea that Tochi was alive, or that someone was pretending to be him.
Neither felt safe.
Neither made sense.
She got up, pacing the room like a caged animal. She had to do something. She couldn't sit and wait to be hunted like prey.
She opened her wardrobe and pulled out an old box. Inside were photos, marriage certificates, funeral papers, Tochi's old passport, and the only photo she had of his body.. burned, unrecognizable, but wearing his wedding ring.
Her hands trembled as she looked at it again.
Was this really him?
Or had they buried a stranger?
She grabbed the photo and rushed to Zara's apartment. It was late, almost 10pm, but she didn't care.
Zara opened the door, confused.
"Amaka, are you okay?"
"No. And I need your eyes."
They sat at her dining table. Amaka spread the photos.
"This was Tochi's corpse, right?"
Zara looked at it closely. "This body is too charred. If not for the ring, no one would know it was him."
Amaka nodded slowly.
"That's what I'm scared of. What if… what if that wasn't him? What if Tochi never died?"
Zara didn't speak.
"What if we buried someone else? What if the entire thing was a lie?"
Zara shook her head. "That's too crazy. Why would anyone fake something like that?"
Amaka stared at the photo again. "I don't know. But someone is playing games with me. And I think it's just starting."
Just then, Zara's light blinked ,once, twice, then came back fully.
Zara frowned. "NEPA sef."
But Amaka wasn't looking at the light. Her eyes were fixed on her phone. A message had just entered.
She unlocked it.
"You should stop digging. You won't like what you find."
Attached was a picture.
She clicked it.
Her blood went cold.
It was a picture of her.
Taken from outside the window.
She looked up slowly. Then turned to Zara.
"We're being watched.
Amaka's feet refused to move.
She stood frozen in Zara's living room, phone in one hand, heart thudding like a drum inside her chest.
That picture..the one just sent …was taken a few seconds ago. It wasn't just her reflection. It was her. Standing right where she was. Looking confused. Looking watched.
She slowly turned toward the window.
The curtains were shut. She tiptoed to them and yanked them apart in one swift motion.
Nothing.
Just the dark night and Zara's quiet compound.
No shadows.
No movement.
But someone had taken that picture. Someone who had been close enough to see her from the outside, in real-time.
Zara came beside her. "Amaka, what's going on?"
Amaka showed her the message.
Zara read it and gasped. "This is sick."
"I told you," Amaka whispered. "I'm not crazy."
Zara looked around nervously. "Should we call the police?"
"To say what? That a ghost sent me a picture?"
Zara frowned. "Then what do we do?"
Amaka took a deep breath. "I need to go back to the cemetery."
Zara's eyes widened. "At this time?"
"I need to see his grave again. I want to know if it's still sealed. If it ever was."
Zara opened her mouth to argue, then closed it.
She had never seen Amaka this determined. Not even during the funeral. Not even when her heart was broken.
This was something else. Something darker.
They grabbed Zara's car keys and drove through the mostly empty roads of Lagos, heading for the cemetery where Tochi had been buried.
Rain had fallen earlier, and the roads were wet and shiny. The air outside felt heavy, like it was holding its breath.
The cemetery was quiet when they arrived. The security man barely looked up from his radio as they passed.
Amaka didn't need help locating the grave. She remembered every detail.
Plot B-17.
She had visited it every month for a year before she stopped coming.
Now, three years later, here she was again, flashlight in hand, staring down at the small rectangular tombstone that read:
Tochukwu A.
1990 - 2022
Beloved Husband and Son
Rest in Peace
Zara stood a little behind her, arms folded, nervously watching.
Amaka knelt down and touched the soil around the slab. It was firm, undisturbed.
But as she brushed her fingers over the edge of the grave, something caught her eye.
A faint scratch.
Then another.
Lines.
Fresh.
Too fresh to be three years old.
Amaka's breath caught.
She followed the scratches with her fingers. They curved slightly, like something had been dragged across the stone.
Then Zara gasped.
"Amaka, look!"
She pointed at the base of the tombstone. A small part had chipped off, recently.
Amaka looked closer.
Beneath the chipped stone… was fabric.
Black fabric.
She yanked at it with shaky fingers.
It came out like a ribbon.
And wrapped around it was a folded piece of paper, slightly wet from the soil.
Amaka opened it, her fingers trembling.
There was one line written in red ink.
"Graves can lie too."
She dropped it like it burned her fingers.
Zara backed away slowly. "We need to go. Now."
Amaka stood up and took one last look at the grave.
Her heart was racing, her skin cold with fear.
She thought this trip would bring closure.
Instead, it only opened the door wider.
To what, she didn't know yet.
But something was coming.
And it wasn't staying buried for long.