Scars (Romola 2)

68: Amos

"Check again." Olumide pushed his phone towards the Technicians laptop.

He'd chosen the best among the best that he could contract on such short notice. If he had more time, he would have gone for someone else, probably someone much cheaper. Or he would have employed the services of one of those high-end security personnel. But he could not do so without alerting the IG. Waiting would do nothing for the fire that burned in his belly. A fire that begged for truth.

"What else do you want me to find?"

When he called in sick at work that morning, he'd done it because he thought he would find something new about Romola's photos on his phone and that terrible group chat, not a rerun of Kennedy's exposition. Now, standing at one side of a row of technicians in various booths dedicated to popular electronics brands, the choice seemed unwise. He probably would've progressed more if he had found the first suspect.

But he didn't want to make the same mistake twice. The first time, he had accepted facts at face value. This time, he would be sure before striking.

"Tell me how those pictures got to my phone."

"I've told you sir. It's impossible. All I can do is tell you the name of the file and the date it was received. Nothing more."

"Aren't you supposed to be the best here or am I just wasting precious time."

The technician pulled the cord out of the phone and slid it back across the table, before rising from the high-seat behind the booth table. On the ground level, he was about the same height at Olumide. "I cannot do anything for you."

"So, are you just telling me to go?"

The technician gave him a pity look before sliding his hands into his well pressed trousers and walking away, leaving an empty booth behind.

Olumide looked around at the other booths, under the large IPhone banner, at the left and right of where he stood. The booth, two spaces, away from where he stood had a three plastic chairs side-by-side where waiting customers sat. The young woman with a small child tugging her hand, the booth's current customer, walked towards the exit. Just as an old woman, clutched her bag and prepared to rise.

Olumide hurried to the booth and despite his grandparents' various warnings, he stood in the old woman's path and held his phone out to the booth operator, a woman about his age with a bright pink face cap and matching bold pink lipstick. "I'll give you any amount. Just fix this."

"I can't help you."

"You haven't even heard my problem."

"If I go to Amos when I have problems, what makes you think I would be able to solve yours?" The woman's thick brow rose.

"Who is Amos?"

She pulled her face cap lower down her face. "The guy whose booth you just left."

Olumide held his phone closer and swallowed a groan of agony. He apologised to the old woman but walked out on her while she began to eulogize about the problems of youths today. The ride to the car park was lonely but his mind was a busy place.

All this time wasted for nothing. And all this money down the drain because of a question he was too afraid to ask. It would be a fatal move to ask the wrong person. The wrong person would ensure that he would never know peace.

His life hung in a balance. Of course, he could walk away and leave his life as always but the need-to-know truth would still chase him. It would ensure that sleep eluded him for an eternity. Just as in those days, when Sleep eluded him as he was yet unsure about Romola's true identity. It was sometime during that time that someone got his phone and posted Romola's pictures.

Yesterday afternoon, the balance beam held both he and Romola. By last night, Yetunde had become a pendulum between them. She was either a woman who truly cared about him and wanted the best for both he and Romola, in her own weird way. Or she was the worst thing that had happened to them both. If it were Yetunde, it would be a case losing the one who loved him. He may not choose to marry her, but she was still considered a member of his family. If Romola was at fault, he would lose the one he loved. Again.

He walked out of the building and the sunlight hit his eyes hard. It hadn't been full dawn when he'd left his house to beat the traffic and stand first in line to Amos' booth. He shaded his profile with his hand as he turned left towards the car park.

The evidence strayed in Yetunde's direction but then, Romola had also tried to sell her own pictures. He could only ask one of them. And he already suspected that the answer that weighed on his mind was what this person would say.

AUTHOR'S NOTE:

Hello all,  I am doing my best to update but my pc has issues and I don't have money to buy a new one so I'll be updating until I can't from my system but that means updates may come slower. They won't stop. They'll just be slower. 

But I don't mind a go-fund-me for a new system. I wanna buy a Chromebook (insert crying emoji because I am typing this from the system without an emoji keyboard)