Chapter 77: The Crossroads of Choices
As Adeola's footsteps faded down the creaky hallway, Bayo slumped against the door, his forehead resting on the worn wood. The weight of his responsibilities settled on his shoulders like a heavy cloak. He ran a hand through his dreadlocks, feeling the familiar texture of white and black beads interwoven with his hair.
"Ìgbà tí ojú bá ńro ni a ńmo eni tó ńfẹ́ wa," Bayo muttered to himself, the Yoruba proverb rolling off his tongue. [It's when we are in trouble that we know who truly loves us.]
The words triggered a flood of memories. Bayo closed his eyes, transported back to a few weeks ago when he had fallen ill after a particularly strenuous supernatural trial.
[Flashback]
Amina's cool hand rested on Bayo's forehead, her touch gentle and comforting. "Your fever is still high," she murmured, her voice laced with concern. "Here, drink this herbal tea. It should help."