“Osita.” She flicked her eyes at me and smiled tightly with her lips closed, her tone spiked. “Glad you could make it.”

By then, I figured Juju must have told her about my relationship with Vivek. I wasn’t surprised by her hostility, and I didn’t care enough to make noise about it. What was there to fight about? The boy was dead. I sat down and waited, glancing over at Juju. She looked exhausted. She’d taken her light brown hair out of its usual braids and tied it into a rough bun; she had bags under her eyes, no lip gloss, and yet she was the most beautiful I could remember seeing her, even looking like she was about to break. It was strange—the next thought I had was, Vivek would want me to take care of her. “How have you been?” I asked.

“She’s fine,” Elizabeth snapped. I almost snapped back at her, but then Somto and Olunne arrived and we were all greeting one another, rearranging chairs, passing around menus. Juju and Elizabeth had to move their chairs closer to make room for Somto and Olunne, overriding the little force field between them, and in that absence they fell back into their old comfort, their voices lacing together like one fabric. We put in our order with the waiter, then Olunne turned to Juju. “Okay,” she said. “What’s this about? Why did we bring Osita all the way from Owerri?”

Juju and Elizabeth looked at each other and Elizabeth gave her a small nod. “Show them,” she said.

Juju reached inside her bag and pulled out a colorful envelope, bright stock-photo faces smiling all over it. “I got this developed the other day from Vivek’s camera,” she said, handing the envelope to Somto, who was sitting next to her. “I—I think we should give them to Aunty Kavita.”

Somto opened the envelope and inhaled a soft, quick breath. She looked at Juju, upset.

“You took pictures of him like this?”

Juju’s jaw tightened. “He wanted them. Was I supposed to tell him no?”

Somto closed the flap of the envelope without looking at the other photographs inside it. “So you mean the people at the photo place also saw these?”

Elizabeth rolled her eyes. “Use your brain,” she said. “Of course they did. And so what?” Olunne reached across the table and took the envelope from her sister. “You’ve already seen them, Elizabeth?”

“I went with Juju to pick them up.”

Somto looked furious. “You shouldn’t have taken these pictures, Juju. I don’t care if that’s what he wanted. What if someone finds them? What if someone at the photo place made their own copies?”

“Didn’t you hear her?” Olunne was sifting through the pictures; her voice was gentle, almost amused. “She wants to show them to his mother.”

“You dey craze,” Somto said to Juju. “Do you hear me? Your head is not correct. Aunty Kavita must never see these. Can you imagine what it will do to her?”

“I think she should know.” Juju sounded uncertain, afraid.

Elizabeth put a hand on her arm. “You knew him best,” she said.

“He’s not here!” shouted Somto. Elizabeth glared at her and she lowered her voice. “He’s not here,” she repeated. “They buried him already. What’s the point of showing her these?”

Olunne handed me the photographs and I took them, my heart beating fast. I already knew what I would see, that it would hit me in the chest like a lorry. I hadn’t seen a picture of him since the burial.

“You don’t see what she’s like,” Juju argued. “She’s been asking questions all the time. She won’t stop. She wants to know what happened to him.”

“We don’t know what happened to him,” said Olunne.

“Well, she thinks we do. Or at least that I do, just because he was at my house last.”

“She was coming to our house, but she’s stopped,” Somto said.

“Yes, because it’s me that she’s disturbing!” Juju retorted. “Do you know she and my mother quarreled about it? Mumsy even said she shouldn’t come to the house anymore—after all these years they’ve been friends. So now she just calls our landline all the time, begging me to remember something that I’m not telling her.”

“And it’s this you want to tell her?” Somto’s eyebrows were raised and mocking. “You don’t think these will cause more questions?”

Juju shrugged. “They’re the truth. She knows he was hiding something. Why don’t we just show her?”

“Because the woman is nearly mad, Juju.” Olunne said it like she was stating a gentle fact. I kept looking through the photographs, the gloss slipping off my fingers. There I was in one of them, smiling for the camera. I remembered that one. Juju had taken it in the late afternoon when the sun was setting and had become a line across her bedroom wall. Light cut through my face severely, casting my smile in shadows. I put the photo at the bottom of the pile and continued looking through the rest as the girls argued.

“Elizabeth, please come and collect your girlfriend,” Somto said, throwing her hands up. “She won’t stop talking nonsense.”

“No, but seriously.” Olunne turned to Elizabeth. “Do you think we should tell Aunty Kavita?”

Elizabeth bit her lip. “Look,” she said, “eventually all secrets come out. It’s just a matter of time. And the longer it takes, the worse it is in the end.” She lifted and dropped one shoulder. “We all know this from experience, abi?”

I almost felt Juju wince and knew she was thinking of her father. Or maybe the secrets she’d kept from Elizabeth.

Somto wasn’t convinced. “How will she find out?” she asked. “Na you go tell am? In fact, apart from all of us here, who even knew about it?” No one said anything. “Exactly. So unless one of us decides to go and start opening their big mouth, there’s no reason Aunty Kavita should know. You people don’t have any respect. Let the woman remember Vivek the way she knew him, haba! What’s your own? Am I the only one with sense here?”

Olunne folded her hands and nodded. “Why cause trouble?” she said.

Juju and Elizabeth looked at each other. “Two against two,” Elizabeth said, and they all turned to me.

“I think Osita should decide,” said Juju.

Somto sucked her teeth. “Why him?”

My heart sped up. Was Juju about to tell them about us?

Olunne smacked her sister’s arm. “Idiot. Vivek is his cousin. It’s his family we’re talking about.”

Juju nodded. “She’s your aunt. You decide.”

Elizabeth’s mouth curled into a snarl. “Yes,” she said, her voice saccharine. “He was your cousin.” She was looking me straight in the eye; I could see her disgust. I wondered how much Juju had told her, or if it even mattered at this point.

Juju glared briefly at Elizabeth, then turned to me again. “Should she know?”

I opened my mouth to answer, but then our food came and I swallowed the words. We all fell silent for a bit, shifting things around to make space on the table.

After the waiter left, Juju took a piece of fried yam and waited for my answer. Elizabeth started eating her suya, her eyes on my face. The sisters blew on the bowl of pepper soup they were sharing, and I stared down at my plate for a moment, looking at the oil-slick ugba and the blackness of the fried snail. The smell was rich and thick in my nostrils.

“Show her,” I said, surprising even myself.

“Jesus Christ,” said Somto.

Juju coughed on a piece of yam. “Wait, really?” She hadn’t expected me to agree. She thought I’d want to hide him.

“Show them to her,” I repeated, closing the envelope and handing it back to Juju.

“You people are going to kill that woman,” said Somto. “Wallahi.”

I ignored that. “You’re right,” I said to Juju. “She needs answers. We’re all pretending he wasn’t killed. As if Vivek dying was a normal thing.”

“But we know why he was killed,” muttered Olunne, poking her straw into her glass.

“Exactly,” I said. “We know. But she doesn’t. So show her, so that she can understand. So she can stop asking questions.”

“If you think that’s going to stop her from asking questions, you’re mad.” Somto picked up her spoon and swirled it in the pepper soup.

“No, she’ll continue asking questions. But she’ll ask different ones. And maybe they’ll be questions we can answer.”

Juju looked like she was about to cry. “Thank you,” she said. “I just can’t be lying like this.”

“Jesus,” said Olunne. “This is going to be crazy. If you tell her, all our parents are going to know. That means they’re going to ask us questions. All of us. Why we allowed it. Why we didn’t tell them.”

“It wasn’t their business,” said Juju.

“Is that so? I want to be there when you tell that to your mother. I’m sure she’ll understand.” Olunne dumped her straw in the glass and folded her arms. “This is going to be a disaster. They’re going to kill us.”

“At least we’re alive,” Juju said. “Vivek isn’t.”

The table fell silent. Then Somto put her face in her hands and groaned. “I can’t believe you’re going to make us do this.”

I stared at my food, my appetite gone, my chest tightening from seeing his pictures. “I have to start getting back to Owerri,” I said, standing up. The girls looked up at me, surprised.