The afternoon sun had barely begun its descent when a man in a dark jacket walked through the hospital doors. His steps were calm but deliberate, his eyes scanning every detail around him with professional precision. Bekaye, a seasoned police officer, had seen enough unusual situations to notice when something was off. His gaze settled on the receptionist, a woman in her thirties, busy sorting through paperwork.
He approached, hands slipping into his jacket pockets, and stopped abruptly at the counter. His eyes fixed on her, a faint, forced smile on his lips:
— "Hello, I'm looking for Mr. Salif ███'s room."
His voice was controlled, yet carried a subtle urgency. The receptionist looked up, surprised by the specificity of his request. She quickly searched her computer, typing with anxious fingers. Her eyes widened as she found the entry:
— "Mr. Salif… left the hospital two days ago."
Bekaye frowned, his professional calm flickering for a brief moment. He had encountered many strange cases, but this combination of serious injuries and early disappearance unnerved him slightly. He tilted his head, studying the receptionist's reaction:
— "Are you all right? You seem… surprised by this news."
The receptionist, slightly embarrassed, replied in a measured tone:
— "Mr. Salif had four fractured ribs, a traumatic head injury, his legs dislocated… basically, a lot of injuries. We wouldn't have allowed him to leave so soon under normal circumstances."
Bekaye's eyes widened slightly, his mind racing. Is this man even human? he wondered. The combination of serious trauma and sudden disappearance defied all medical and logical reasoning.
After a moment of silence, he regained his composure and asked:
— "Could I have the phone number of a family member or someone close to him?"
The receptionist hesitated, slightly wary:
— "Aren't you a family member or a close relative?"
Bekaye produced his police badge, displaying it clearly:
[ FIRST NAME ] : BEKAYE
[ NAME ] : COULIBALY
[ AGENT ]: No. 04
— "No. I'm with the police. I'm conducting an investigation."
The receptionist hesitated briefly, then tore a piece of paper and wrote down a number. She handed it to him:
— "Here."
Bekaye nodded in acknowledgment and stepped out of the hospital, already calculating his next move. Each step echoed in the empty hall, the sound of his shoes striking the tile reinforcing the tension in the air.
Meanwhile, at school, Sall was sitting quietly, still shaken by the events of the previous night. His cautious nature prevented him from fully relaxing. He stared out the window, lost in thought, when a soft but determined voice interrupted him:
— "D-did someone… attack you last night?"
Sall jumped, his mouth slightly open, unable to hide his shock. His eyes fell on the young girl standing before him. She seemed timid, almost shrinking into herself, her gaze flickering nervously before meeting his.
— "How… how do you know that?" he stammered, still in disbelief.
The girl spoke in a low, hesitant voice, each word a struggle:
— "I… I was told to deliver a message to you."
Sall blinked, trying to process this, a mixture of curiosity and caution coursing through him. He took a deep breath:
— "What kind of message?"
Adjara, gathering courage, clutched her skirt with both hands as if bracing
herself, and replied carefully:
— "The person told me… to tell you not to repeat this message to anyone."
Sall nodded slowly, weighing the implications. It was clear that someone outside his immediate circle was observing him, evaluating his actions.
He realized that trust would now play a critical role in navigating the unknown.
— "And what exactly was the other part of the message?" he asked, his voice low and deliberate.
Adjara flinched, her cheeks flushing, and murmured:
— "I… I don't know… just… not to repeat it."
Sall understood that she was merely a messenger, chosen carefully by someone with greater knowledge or authority. He studied her closely, assessing her reliability. If this person entrusted Adjara with this task… then they must trust her. Maybe I can trust her too.
— "Adjara… would you like to…" he began, but the bell rang before he could finish his sentence, signaling the end of break and the return to class.
Students stood, shuffling back to their seats as the bell's sharp tone reverberated through the corridors, mixing tension and routine. Sall, still processing, gathered his belongings, while Adjara stayed nearby, quiet and timid, yet present—a constant in the unpredictable world that surrounded him.
The classroom settled into a routine, the sounds of papers rustling, whispering students, and squeaking chairs creating a familiar backdrop. For Sall, the contrast between this ordinary environment and the chaos of the night before felt almost surreal.
When the teacher called the roll, Sall was introduced:
— "Class, this is a new student… Sall, returning from the Americas to continue his studies."
Whispers rippled through the room:
— "Wow… you really came from America?"
— "Why are you back?"
Sall lowered his gaze, slightly embarrassed, and answered simply:
— "I returned for my parents' funeral."
Lessons resumed, and Sall found himself absorbed in the routine. The math problems, the discussions, the quiet presence of classmates beside him—it all felt unexpectedly comforting. He realized how much he had missed this sense of normality, how much he needed ordinary moments to breathe, even if briefly.
During recess, he pulled out the food he had brought and sat quietly, still lost in thought. Adjara approached, moving cautiously, her presence almost invisible but determined.
— "I… I was told to give you a message," she said softly, her gaze low.
Sall, still startled, regained his composure and asked:
— "What's your name? And who sent
you to give me this message?"
Each word she spoke seemed to require great effort:
— "My name is Adjara Diallo… and the person who sent me said you will meet them at the right time."
Sall rested his chin in his hand, pondering. The significance of this message was clear: someone was observing, testing his reactions. He realized that trust would be vital in this mysterious world.
— "And what exactly was the rest of the message?" he asked, his voice cautious and low.
Adjara flinched, her voice quivering:
— "I… I was told not to repeat this message to anyone."
Sall nodded slowly, understanding that the girl was trustworthy, yet aware that the mystery surrounding him only deepened.
The bell rang again, signaling the end of break. Sall packed his things, keeping his eyes on Adjara, while the school day resumed around them, enveloping the scene in a deceptive normality. The chapter closes here, leaving the suspense and tension intact for what comes next.