The road home felt longer than usual.
Not because the distance had changed.
Not because of traffic or delays.
But because of what waited at the end of it.
Taye walked with steady steps, his hands tucked into his pockets, his mind unusually quiet.
Not empty.
Just… controlled.
The city moved around him as it always did, people talking, vendors calling out, cars forcing their way through tight spaces, but none of it really reached him.
Because for the first time in days…
His thoughts weren't ahead of him.
They were behind.
At home.
With his father.
He replayed the call again.
"He's not well."
The words had been simple.
Too simple.
No detail.
No urgency in tone.
But that was what made it worse.
Because in the kind of world he had just stepped into…
People didn't exaggerate.
They understated.
Taye exhaled slowly.
His pace didn't quicken.
That was the strange part.
He wasn't running.
Wasn't panicking.
And somewhere deep inside, that realization bothered him more than anything else.
Because there was a time,
Not long ago,
When he would have dropped everything.
Run without thinking.
Now?
He was… calculating.
Measuring.
Controlling.
He stopped briefly at a junction, watching cars pass.
And for a moment…
He questioned it.
"Is this who I'm becoming?" he muttered quietly.
The question lingered.
But it didn't stay long.
Because something else replaced it.
A quieter thought.
"You don't have time for this."
He moved again.
When he finally reached the house, the gate was slightly open.
That alone made his chest tighten.
Not out of fear.
But out of instinct.
Something was off.
He pushed it open gently and stepped inside.
The compound was quiet.
Too quiet.
No radio.
No voices.
No movement.
The kind of silence that didn't feel peaceful…
But heavy.
Taye walked toward the door.
Each step slower than the last.
Before he could knock, the door opened.
His mother stood there.
For a second, neither of them spoke.
Then he saw it.
In her eyes.
Not panic.
Not tears.
Exhaustion.
The kind that didn't come from one bad day.
But from many.
"You're back," she said softly.
Taye nodded.
"How is he?"
She didn't answer immediately.
Instead, she stepped aside.
"Come in."
The air inside the house felt different.
Heavier.
Still.
Taye stepped in slowly, his eyes scanning the room.
Everything looked the same.
But nothing felt the same.
"Since when?" he asked quietly.
His mother closed the door behind him.
"He's been like this for a few days," she said.
Taye frowned slightly.
"A few days?"
She nodded.
"He hasn't been sleeping well… barely eating."
A pause.
"And yesterday, he collapsed."
Taye's jaw tightened.
"Why didn't you tell me?"
She looked at him.
Really looked at him.
"You've been busy," she said.
The words weren't harsh.
But they landed that way.
Taye looked away briefly.
Because he knew.
He had been.
Just not with the things that mattered here.
"Where is he?" he asked.
"In the room."
The walk to his father's room felt… unfamiliar.
Not physically.
But emotionally.
Like he was entering a space he had slowly distanced himself from.
He reached the door.
Paused.
Then pushed it open.
The room was dim.
Curtains drawn halfway.
A faint smell of medicine in the air.
And on the bed,
His father.
For a moment, Taye didn't move.
Because the man lying there…
Didn't look like the same person.
He looked smaller.
Weaker.
Like something had been taken from him.
Piece by piece.
Taye stepped closer slowly.
His father's eyes were closed.
His breathing shallow.
Taye stood beside the bed, staring.
Trying to process it.
This was the man who used to fill the house with his voice.
Who laughed loudly.
Who always had something to say.
Now?
Silence.
"…Dad," Taye said quietly.
No response.
He swallowed.
Then tried again.
"Dad."
This time…
A slight movement.
His father's eyes opened slowly.
They were tired.
But aware.
For a second, confusion flickered.
Then recognition.
"Taye…" he said weakly.
The sound of his name in that voice…
It hit harder than anything else.
Taye pulled a chair closer and sat.
"I'm here," he said.
His father nodded slightly.
"You've been… gone," he murmured.
Taye hesitated.
"I've just been busy."
A faint smile.
"That's what your mother said."
Silence.
Because both of them knew…
That wasn't the full truth.
His father shifted slightly.
Winced.
"Work?" he asked.
Taye paused.
Then nodded.
"Something like that."
Another faint smile.
"Good," his father said.
A pause.
"Just… don't forget yourself in it."
The words landed deeper than expected.
Taye leaned back slightly.
"I won't."
But even as he said it…
He wasn't sure.
Silence settled between them.
Not uncomfortable.
But filled with things unsaid.
His father's eyes studied him.
"You've changed," he said quietly.
Taye didn't respond immediately.
Because he didn't know how to.
"Have I?" he asked.
His father nodded slowly.
"You're quieter."
A pause.
"Harder to read."
That was accurate.
Too accurate.
Taye looked down briefly.
"Things have changed," he said.
His father watched him for a moment longer.
Then nodded.
"Yes," he said softly.
"They have."
Another silence.
Then,
"I'm sorry," his father said.
Taye frowned.
"For what?"
His father exhaled slowly.
"For not protecting you all better."
That hit.
Hard.
Taye leaned forward slightly.
"That's not on you."
His father shook his head weakly.
"It is," he said.
A pause.
"A man should keep his family safe."
Taye's jaw tightened.
"And you did," he said.
But the words felt…
Incomplete.
Because they both knew,
Something had broken.
His father closed his eyes briefly.
"I should've seen it," he murmured.
Taye didn't ask what he meant.
Because he already knew.
His sister.
That memory lingered.
Heavy.
Taye exhaled slowly.
"You couldn't have known," he said.
His father didn't respond.
Because deep down…
He didn't believe that.
Minutes passed.
The conversation slowed.
Then faded.
His father's breathing steadied again.
Sleep.
Taye sat there.
Watching him.
And for the first time since stepping into that other world…
Something inside him cracked.
Not fully.
But enough.
Because this…
This was real.
Not systems.
Not power.
Just loss.
Waiting.
Taye leaned back slowly.
And realized something that made his chest tighten.
He had been so focused on chasing answers…
That he hadn't seen what was right in front of him.
Slipping away.
He stood up quietly.
Adjusted the blanket slightly.
Then turned and walked out.
His mother was in the living room.
Sitting.
Waiting.
She looked up when he entered.
"How is he?" she asked.
Taye hesitated.
Then said,
"He's trying."
She nodded slowly.
"That's what he's been doing," she said.
A pause.
"Trying."
Silence.
Taye sat down across from her.
For a moment, neither of them spoke.
Then she said,
"You should spend more time here."
Not a demand.
A request.
Taye nodded.
"I will."
But again…
He wasn't sure how true that was.
Because now…
He was divided.
Two worlds.
Two responsibilities.
And no way to fully hold both.
That night, Taye stayed.
Not because he was told to.
But because something in him knew—
Time wasn't something he could afford to waste anymore.
He sat outside his father's room.
Listening.
Waiting.
And for the first time in a long time…
He didn't think about revenge.
He didn't think about the system.
He didn't think about power.
He just sat there.
A son.
Trying to hold on to something…
Before it disappeared.
But deep down…
He knew.
It already was.