In the early morning hours, police cars and commuters gather around an alley in the wealthy district of Windhoek, where a trail of five bodies has been left by an unknown killer. Red and blue lights flash as police sirens echo through the city, and reporters swarm the area to spread the news—unaware that elsewhere, a couple's corpses are left to rot.
Vicky yawns as she struggles to wake up, feeling as though she never gets enough sleep. She forces herself out of bed, walks into the bathroom, and splashes water on her face. After stretching and cracking her joints to get ready for the day, she freshens up and prepares her siblings for school. Emily's school is nearby, but Evan's is across town, so he takes a cab to school.
Meanwhile, at the Shikongo mansion, Alexander makes coffee for his grandmother, Kuku. This is his daily routine—before anything else, even his own breakfast, he serves coffee to his grandma. He believes it's a blessing, as every day he does this, things go well for him. With a smile, he packs a tray with bread and a cup of coffee and heads to his grandmother's room. It's a fresh, new day.
"You really don't miss a chance, do you?" Kuku says, her mood neutral as she puts her iPad away and accepts the tray Alexander hands her. She's still in bed, seated upright with her legs covered by the sheets.
"What can I say? I need today to go well," Alexander says, a smirk stretching across his face.
"I really was upset that you didn't come to get the flag, but then Cinthia informed me about the coincidence," Kuku says as she takes a sip of coffee. She immediately frowns.
"Hmm, this is new," she says, noticing the coffee tastes different than usual.
"Is it too much sugar? I can make another one," Alexander says immediately, concerned he might have added too much. He hadn't measured the sugar like he usually does.
"No, no... it's um... very delicious. Or are my taste buds acting up?" she says as she pulls the cup away, knowing she'll finish it all at once if she keeps sipping. Alexander sighs in relief.
"So, tell me, son, who do you have in mind?" Kuku asks. Alexander's expression shifts to annoyance.
"I thought getting a flag doesn't force me into marriage," he protests, his mood beginning to flare. He had planned to ignore anything related to marriage, the flag, or last night's events.
"Yes... and that doesn't mean you should sit with it forever. You'll have to pass it down to Cinthia eventually," Kuku says gently, as if speaking softly might protect the fragile hope that's grown in her.
"Hey, look at me," she says gently, prompting Alexander to meet her gaze. "I'm not getting any younger, and I don't want to die knowing you'll remain a bachelor engrossed in business and money. You revived the family business at 25, and I admired your confidence in getting your life together at such a young age. I even thought that once you built Shikongo Industries, you'd marry next—that's why I suggested you receive the flag instead of Adams at Sophia's wedding. You did great, and I'm proud of you, son. Your parents are proud too. But you still have to consider your future, because it's lonely at the top," she finishes, noticing Alexander beginning to soften.
"Okay, Granny... your happiness is my happiness," he replies quietly.
"Don't make it about me. Look for someone you love and trust—someone who can build a great and successful life with you," Kuku adds, taking another sip of the delicious coffee her grandson made this morning.
"My happiness lies in your hands, Alexander. I want a daughter-in-law—someone who will be with me and help take care of this household. We can't rely on the servants; we don't really know them, and one day they might rob us," Kuku adds.
"Kuku, you're overthinking. Nothing like that will happen, okay? Sofia and Adam are here, we're all here," Alexander reassures her.
"Sofia will go back to her in-laws' house very soon, Adam will build his own home, and guess who'll be left? You, alone. Monica will leave with her parents," she warns.
"Okay, Grandma, I heard you. This is exactly why I bring you my coffee—you always have something new to bless me with," he says, standing up.
"So, do you have someone in mind, or should I fetch my horoscope?" Grandma asks, a hopeful stretch on her face.
"No!" Alexander almost shouts. "I can't be matched. I've been friends with Catty for too long; we all know her," he says, lowering his voice. He can't be matched!"That's true, Catty is a good match! I bless you, son—have a grand day!" Kuku says. Unknown to them, someone is eavesdropping on their conversation.
***
Inside a company called AID, workers swarm the building, busy at their computers. It looks like a tech company, given the variety of computers of every kind, design, and model. A woman wearing black pants, a blue blouse, and heels is seated at her desk, engrossed in lines of code and data. Suddenly, five pictures of men pop up on her screen. She instantly stands and shouts,"I got it!"
Her coworkers turn their heads toward her and immediately move from their desks, following her to the boardroom.
In the boardroom, a man—probably in his forties—sits at a desk, legs crossed, studying what looks like a puzzle board covered with news articles and pictures of people—some labeled as victims, others as suspects, and some marked as "next." The board is filled with photos pinned in different colors. He pinches the bridge of his nose in frustration; no matter how hard he tries, he can't find a solution.
Suddenly, his team enters.
"What have you got for me, Natasha?" he asks wearily as the whole team gathers around.
"I've identified the victims," Natasha says, handing over their printed mugshots. The man narrows his eyes in recognition.
"Wait... I know this guy," he says, prompting a frown from his team.
"This is Luke—he worked... well, he was interning at Shikongo Industries. This is just a child—" the man says, on the verge of tears.
"Simon, you do realize the serial killer goes after criminals, goons, and anyone who slipped through the law on technicalities, right?" Robert, one of the team members, asks.
"Yes, but still... seeing someone you knew die is a different kind of feeling, even if that person was evil," Simon replies, sniffling back tears.
Luke was a college kid Simon helped recover from alcohol and drugs four years ago. He enrolled Luke back in school until he graduated, which made Simon proud of his intervention. But it seems Luke went back to his old ways, because the serial killer—who started killing just a few weeks ago—only targets anyone suspected of illegal activity, whether or not the police knew, or those convicted but later released by the government to walk the earth again