It started with a package. There was no return address. Just my name in a handwriting I didn’t recognize, dropped at the gate of my Yaba apartment on a Tuesday afternoon. I stared at it for the longest few seconds before I slowly picked it up.

Inside the big carton was a small black box. There was no note. Just the box. Inside the box laid a silver key. Old. Simple. The kind you’d use for a diary or a small lock. My curiosity had peaked.

And tucked under it, was a folded paper. I hadn't seen it at first.

"You left something behind. - K"

Kola.

Of course he...