"Please do," Ego pleaded, leaning forward. "Tell me what really happened to me."
The old woman sighed, her eyes drifting toward the dancing flames.
"When we finished talking that night, you stepped outside to answer the call of nature. I waited for you to return, but the minutes stretched on, and you never came back."
She paused.
"At first, I thought perhaps you had wandered a little farther than you intended. But when the night grew older, fear settled in my heart. I called your name over and over, yet only the forest answered me."
She looked down at her wrinkled hands.
"I lit a torch and took Ogologo with me. We searched everywhere around the hut, calling your name until my voice became hoarse. We found no footprints. No broken branches. Nothing. It was as though the earth had swallowed you."
Ego listened without interrupting.
"Eventually, I had no choice but to return home. I barely slept that night. Every little sound made me think you had come back. I wondered if you had become lost... or if slave raiders had taken you. I even feared wild animals had found you first."
She shook her head sadly.
"At dawn, Ogologo woke me with frantic barking. She wouldn't stop. She kept running toward the forest and back to me until I understood she wanted me to follow her."
The old woman smiled faintly.
"That dog saved your life."
Ego looked at Ogologo, who was lying quietly beside the doorway.
"She tracked your scent deep into the Evil Forest."
The old woman's smile disappeared.
"And that is where I found you."
Ego felt a knot tighten in her stomach.
"You were buried inside a shallow grave."
Silence filled the hut.
"It was just deep enough to hold your body. Plantain leaves had been spread beneath you, and another leaf covered your feet."
Ego's face drained of color.
"I... I was buried?"
The old woman nodded.
"You were unconscious, burning with fever, yet shivering violently. Your lips moved constantly, but your words made no sense. You were talking to people who weren't there."
A cold shiver ran through Ego's body.
"I examined the grave carefully," the old woman continued. "Whoever dug it had done something strange. It wasn't the work of someone simply trying to kill you."
"What do you mean?"
"If they wanted you dead, they would have buried you properly."
She held Ego's gaze.
"The plantain leaves told a different story."
Ego frowned.
"They were arranged to keep the cold earth from touching your skin. Whoever placed you there knew exactly what they were doing."
"So..."
"So either someone buried you alive..."
She paused deliberately.
"...or someone was desperately trying to save your life."
The words lingered heavily between them.
"I couldn't stand there trying to solve the mystery," the old woman continued. "Your fever was getting worse, and the forest is no place to waste precious time."
"I wanted to carry you, but my old body could never manage your weight."
She chuckled softly.
"Certainly not with these old bones."
"So I prayed for an answer."
Her eyes brightened.
"Then Ogologo began barking again."
The dog lifted its head as if remembering.
"Behind us lay several freshly cut bamboo poles."
"So you made the stretcher..."
"I did."
"I cut more bamboo, tied them together with fresh omu leaves, then carefully lifted you from the grave."
She smiled.
"You were heavier than you looked."
Despite herself, Ego almost smiled.
"I wrapped you in my cloth, tied you securely to the stretcher, and dragged you all the way back home."
She rubbed her shoulders as though she could still feel the strain.
"It took hours."
"What happened after that?"
"The fever became worse halfway through the journey."
The old woman's expression darkened.
"You began muttering names... crying... begging someone not to leave you."
Ego lowered her eyes.
"I found herbs nearby, crushed them, and forced the juice into your mouth. Then I rubbed the rest over your body to cool the fever."
She continued quietly.
"By the time we reached the hut, I was exhausted."
"I prepared stronger medicine, bathed you with boiled mango, guava, and pawpaw leaves, and stayed beside you the entire night."
"You never woke."
"I thought..." the old woman admitted softly, "...I thought I might lose you."
Ego swallowed hard.
"The next morning your fever finally began to break."
The old woman smiled with relief.
"I thanked the gods."
"I left only briefly to gather more herbs and firewood. I told Ogologo to watch over you."
She sighed.
"When I returned..."
"You were gone."
"I searched around the hut."
"Nothing."
"I waited until evening."
"Still nothing."
"So today I came looking for you."
The hut fell silent except for the crackling fire.
Ego's eyes slowly filled with tears.
Everything she had accused the old woman of...
The betrayal.
The priestess.
The shrine.
The poison.
The trial.
None of it had happened—at least not according to the woman sitting before her.
Yet it had all felt so real.
She could still remember the taste of the bitter concoction.
She could still hear Chielo screaming.
She could still feel the ropes cutting into her wrists.
Could a fever truly create memories that vivid?
Or had she seen something she was never meant to remember?
Ashamed, Ego slid from the bed onto her knees.
"Nne..."
Her voice trembled.
"I wronged you."
The old woman immediately reached down.
"No, child."
"But I accused you of terrible things."
"You were frightened."
"I believed you wanted me dead."
The old woman gently lifted Ego back onto the bed.
"I have lived long enough to know that fear makes even good people see enemies where there are none."
Fresh tears rolled down Ego's cheeks.
"You saved my life."
"I only did what anyone should do."
"No," Ego whispered. "Not everyone would."
She embraced the old woman tightly.
"Thank you."
The old woman held her for a long moment before gently pulling away.
"There is something I've wanted to tell you."
Ego wiped her eyes.
"What is it?"
The old woman took both of her hands.
"For every kindness you've shown—to me, to Ogologo, and to strangers you've never expected anything from..."
"...the gods have taken notice."
Ego stared at her.
"There are very few people left whose hearts remain this pure."
The old woman slowly tugged at her right ear, the ancient gesture that meant listen carefully.
"I intend to reward you."
Ego frowned.
"I don't understand."
"You were not born for this life of hardship."
Her voice became strangely firm.
"Your path stretches far beyond this village."
She squeezed Ego's hands.
"You have a destiny waiting for you..."
"...and I am going to help you fulfill it."
Ego straightened unconsciously.
"Nne..."
She searched the old woman's eyes.
"I'm listening."