Odhiambo's shadow climbed higher up Atieno's legs. Cold burned into her skin. The hunger in her chest didn't fight it. It recognized it. Bowed to it.
"Three years," Odhiambo said. "That's what your mother bought you."
The Range Rover's engine wasn't running, but heat rolled off it anyway. Wrong heat. Like a fever.
"She came to me the night you turned fourteen," he said. "Begging. Crying. Pathetic. But useful."
Rain hit his shoulders and vanished. Didn't slide. Didn't soak. Vanished.
"Grace had the hunger too. Did you know that? It runs in the blood. She ate her first man at twelve. A drunk uncle. Tasted like cheap gin and guilt." He smiled. "She thought she could stop. Thought she could starve it. She was wrong."
His shadow tightened around Atieno's waist. She couldn't breathe.
"So she made me a deal. Her hunger, for your life. Three years where you got to be normal. Go to school. Laugh. Think you were safe. Three years where the hunger slept."
He leaned forward. The streetlights went out. All of them. Jogoo Road went black except for his eyes.
"Three years ended ten minutes ago. When you ate Ochola."
The hunger in Atieno's chest screamed. Not in fear. In joy.
"She knew you'd find me. She told me exactly where. This corner. This rain." Odhiambo's smile showed too many teeth. "Grace paid for three years of your life, Atieno. Now you pay for the rest of hers."
"Pay?" Atieno said. Her voice didn't shake. That surprised her.
Odhiambo's shadow squeezed. "With interest. Your hunger belongs to me now. Grace signed the papers in blood."
The cold bit into her ribs. The hunger inside her wailed, torn between two masters. Then Mama's words cut through: "Don't stop at one, baby girl."
Not today. Not ever.
Atieno didn't think. She bit.
Not with teeth. With hunger. She shoved her own black smoke out, straight into Odhiambo's shadow.
It felt like swallowing broken glass. Like eating lightning. His shadow tasted old. It tasted like war and stolen graves and men who died begging. It tasted like Mama's screams.
Odhiambo roared. The sound killed every pigeon on Jogoo Road. They dropped from wires, dead before they hit tarmac.
His shadow recoiled. For one second, Atieno was free.
She didn't run. She stepped forward. Into his space. Into the smell of him — formaldehyde and burnt sugar.
"You want payment?" She pressed both palms to her chest, then flung them out. "Take it."
The hunger exploded out of her. Not a trickle like with the wall. A flood. Black smoke with teeth. It hit Odhiambo's chest and he staggered back. His suit smoked. The Range Rover's windows cracked.
"You're Grace's girl," he gasped. Blood ran from his nose. Black blood. "She bit me too, that night. Before she signed."
"Then you should know," Atieno said. "We don't sign. We eat."
She advanced again. The hunger was a second skin now, crawling over her arms, her face. The rain stopped mid-air around her, afraid to touch it.
Odhiambo wiped his mouth. Looked at the black on his fingers. And laughed.
"Good," he said. "Good! I was worried Grace bought me a lamb." He straightened. His shadow, torn and smoking, crawled back to his feet. It was smaller now. "But lambs don't survive what I need you for."
He raised one hand. Snapped his fingers.
The dead pigeons twitched. Then stood. Then looked at Atieno with eyes that weren't bird eyes anymore.
"First lesson, shadow girl," Odhiambo said. "You can't eat what's already dead."
The dead pigeons hopped closer. Their beaks clicked. Not bird sounds. Bone sounds.
"Find for me," Odhiambo said. His voice was calm again. Like he hadn't just bled black. "That's the price. Grace's debt. Your down payment."
Atieno didn't look at the birds. Looked at him. "Find what."
"Something your mother stole from me. Before she ran. Before she bargained." He stepped over a twitching pigeon. It didn't move. "She hid it. In you."
The hunger in Atieno's chest went quiet. Listening.
"She carved it out of herself and fed it to you. Piece by piece. Mixed with ugali when you were too young to taste the difference. With porridge. With love." Odhiambo smiled. "You've been carrying my property for twelve years, shadow girl. I want it back."
"What is it."
"A name." He said it like a curse. "The name of the first shadow. The one who started all of this. Grace ate it off a dead man's bones and thought she could keep it. Thought she could use it to starve the hunger."
Rain started falling again. Normal rain. The streetlights flickered back on, buzzing.
"Where do I look," Atieno said. Not a question. A threat.
Odhiambo pointed at her chest. "In there. Your hunger knows the taste. It's been eating around it for three years. Like gristle in meat. Now you let it out."
"Or?"
"Or I take it." His shadow rose up behind him, torn but healing. "I'll carve you open like I did Grace. I'll eat until I find it. You'll be alive for most of it."
One pigeon launched. Atieno flinched. It landed on the Range Rover and exploded into feathers and black smoke.
"Midnight tomorrow," Odhiambo said. He opened the car door. Inside was darker than night. "Bring me the name. Or I start collecting other things Grace loved. There's an aunt in Dandora. A boy you smiled at in school. I keep lists."
He got in. The door shut without sound. The Range Rover drove into the rain and was gone. No engine. No lights. Just gone.
Atieno stood alone on Jogoo Road. The dead pigeons were just dead birds again.
Midnight tomorrow.
The hunger whispered one word in her chest. Not a name. Not yet.
Dig.