The morning came heavier than the night.
Not darker.
Not louder.
Just… heavier.
Like the world itself understood something had ended.
Taye stood in the compound, his hands by his sides, his gaze fixed on nothing in particular.
People had started arriving early.
Neighbors.
Relatives.
Faces he hadn't seen in years.
Some familiar.
Some not.
All carrying the same expression.
Sympathy.
Or something close to it.
Voices filled the air.
Low murmurs.
Soft greetings.
Whispers that tried not to be heard.
But Taye heard everything.
Every word.
Every tone.
And yet…
None of it reached him.
"He was a good man…"
"Such a quiet person…"
"This is too much for one family…"
Taye blinked slowly.
The words registered.
But they didn't settle.
Because to him…
This wasn't something that just happened.
This was something that was done.
Inside, his mother sat surrounded by women.
Some speaking.
Some crying.
Some just… there.
She hadn't cried loudly.
Not like he expected.
Her grief was quieter.
Deeper.
The kind that didn't need sound to exist.
Taye stood at the doorway for a moment.
Watching her.
He wanted to step in.
Say something.
Do something.
But nothing came.
Because whatever words existed…
Didn't feel enough.
So he turned away.
The coffin arrived shortly after.
Simple.
Clean.
Too small.
Taye watched as they carried it inside.
Watched as they placed his father in it.
Watched as they adjusted his clothes.
Smoothed his face.
Closed the distance between life and memory.
He didn't step forward.
Didn't interfere.
Because this part…
Was already beyond him.
By midday, the crowd had grown.
The compound was full.
Voices layered over each other.
Footsteps.
Movement.
But through all of it…
Taye remained still.
Not frozen.
Grounded.
Because his mind wasn't here.
Not fully.
It was elsewhere.
Connecting.
The bottle.
The man at the gate.
The timing.
Everything aligned too perfectly.
Too precisely.
"You should say something."
The voice came from beside him.
Taye turned.
An older man stood there.
One of his father's friends.
"I'm fine," Taye said.
The man studied him for a moment.
"No," he said quietly.
"You're holding it."
A pause.
"That's not the same thing."
Taye didn't respond.
Because he knew that already.
The burial was scheduled for the afternoon.
By the time they moved, the sun had climbed high.
Too bright.
Too present.
Like it had no respect for what was happening.
The cemetery was quiet.
Not empty.
Just… respectful.
Taye stood near the front.
His mother beside him.
The coffin was lowered slowly.
Ropes creaking slightly.
Earth waiting.
And as it descended…
Something in Taye's chest tightened.
Not outwardly.
But deep.
Because this…
This was final.
Not like the room.
Not like the last breath.
This was irreversible.
The priest spoke.
Words about peace.
About rest.
About acceptance.
Taye heard them.
But he didn't believe them.
Because none of it felt like peace.
None of it felt like rest.
It felt like interruption.
Like something had been cut short.
"Would you like to say anything?"
The question came unexpectedly.
Taye looked up.
The priest was watching him.
Waiting.
Everyone was.
Dozens of eyes.
Expecting something.
Words.
Emotion.
Closure.
Taye stepped forward slowly.
Not because he had something prepared.
But because something needed to be said.
He stood at the edge of the grave.
Looked down.
Then spoke.
"He was a good man."
Simple.
True.
"He didn't deserve this."
A pause.
The air shifted slightly.
Because those words…
Didn't follow the expected script.
Taye continued.
"He tried."
A longer pause.
"He gave everything he could."
His voice didn't shake.
Didn't break.
Because this wasn't about emotion anymore.
This was about truth.
"And whatever took him…"
A pause.
"It wasn't his time."
Silence fell.
Heavy.
Because now…
People felt it.
Something beneath the surface.
Something unresolved.
Taye stepped back.
No more words.
Because he had said enough.
The first shovel of earth fell.
Soft.
But loud enough.
Then another.
And another.
Until the sound became constant.
Until the coffin disappeared beneath it.
Until the space that once held his father…
Was just ground again.
Taye stood there until it was done.
Until there was nothing left to see.
Then he turned.
And walked away.
That night, the house was quieter than it had ever been.
Not heavy.
Empty.
People had left.
Voices gone.
Only silence remained.
His mother sat in the same place.
Still.
Taye stood for a moment.
Then walked over.
She didn't look up.
"He's gone," she said softly.
Taye nodded.
"Yes."
A pause.
Then,
"You'll stay, right?"
That question…
It carried more than just words.
It carried fear.
Loss.
Need.
Taye hesitated.
For the first time in a long time…
He didn't have a clear answer.
Because the truth was,
He couldn't stay.
Not fully.
Not anymore.
But he couldn't say that.
Not like this.
So instead, he said,
"I'll be here."
It wasn't a lie.
But it wasn't the full truth either.
She nodded slowly.
And that was enough for now.
Later that night…
Taye stood outside.
Alone.
The same place he had stood before.
But everything felt different now.
Not because the world had changed.
But because he had.
He reached into his pocket.
Pulled out his phone.
Dialed.
She answered.
"Yes."
Taye's voice was calm.
"I'm ready."
A pause.
"For what?" she asked.
Taye's eyes hardened slightly.
"To stop reacting."
Silence.
Then,
"I see."
Another pause.
"Come tomorrow."
The line went dead.
Taye lowered the phone slowly.
Then looked out into the night.
Dark.
Quiet.
Endless.
And for the first time…
He didn't feel lost in it.
He felt aligned with it.
Because now…
There was no confusion left.
No hesitation.
No illusion of normal life.
Just one clear path.
Find the truth.
And destroy everything connected to it.
No matter what it cost.
No matter who it touched.
Even if…
It destroyed what little he had left.
Taye exhaled slowly.
Then turned.
And walked back inside.
Not as a son trying to hold on to something.
But as someone who had already let go.
End of Volume 1