"Hey, it's the new girl." A new voice exclaimed, so sudden that Lekan startled and stubbed her foot against a headstone, she swore loudly, eyes darting around in the dark searching for an enemy unseen.

She could have sworn with her whole life that she had heard a voice speak before this one.

The dim glare of a torchlight flickered at her eyes and she could make out three boys standing in front of her. Lekan straightened, forcing herself to wear a blank look as she looked at them, certain that she had seen the shortest boy among them around in the few days she had been here, he might have been one of those boys who hooted when any girl passed or one of the noisiest ones who bothered the authorities.

"Could you stop pointing that thing at me?" Lekan broke the silence when they continued to stare at her. The torchlight wavered then was pointed downwards at the ground where Lekan caught a rat scurry past and she shifted slightly.

"So you're her." The shortest one said, blinking at her, he nudged at his friends with both elbows as if communicating a secret message to them, the way they all turned to stare at her made her feel like there was something she was supposed to know, the way the short one spoke told her he had definitely heard something about her. She wasn't even sure what to worry about, the fact that rumours were already spreading around the compound without her knowing or the fact that she had been certain that she had heard someone speak before these boys had arrived

"I'm her," Lekan affirmed, although she was not sure exactly what she was confirming. "Seems like I've got a reputation around here."

"Oh you do," the boy on the right said, bobbing his head, he wore a pink bandana around his head — Lekan was sure that caps and bandanas were contraband wares here — and was the tallest of the three.

"So is it true?" The shortest spoke again, he raised the torchlight in his hands a little higher so Lekan noticed the red scar on his left ear, he sounded eager, as if they weren't four teenagers sneaking away and now standing on a ground that had clearly been a cemetery.

"What is true?" Lekan asked, her brows furrowed in confusion, she smoothened them with a conscious finger when she noticed that the three of them were watching her every expression closely, she had learnt the hard way to be wary of giving away too much. She startled when the short boy took a small step closer.

Realization dawned on her with a chill that had nothing to do with the cold breeze outside, here she was, standing amidst three boys, one of them alone could overpower her and all three could hurt her and she'd never be a lift a finger in defence. She took several steps back, her breath coming in quick pants that made her chest hurt. She planted her feet and stiffened, ready to run if it came to it. Lekan bit her lip when she realized she had left the knife she had snuck in back her in backpack in her room.

When you walked with criminals then you learnt to think like one, learnt to anticipate a stab in the back and get your own knife ready. For now she'd let them talk, then she'd slip away as quick as she could.

"I don't know what you've heard." She cajoled, forcing back a sigh when shortie took an absent step back.

"That you murdered your father so you could run away with your lesbian stepmother." The one on the left piped, he sounded almost impressed, his words hurried and slurred.

It took a moment for the words to register and when they did, Lekan wasn't sure whether to be furious and amused, it was clear that the rumours were the work of her angry roommates, but even them could have come up with something more original than a homicidal love story. She spluttered a cough before she could stop it, then shaking her head.

"Hey, we won't judge if it is, trust me, there's all kinds of bad here." The shortest one continued, he had a cheerful lint in every word he spoke, like he truly had no care in the world, it made Lekan suspicious, because there was nothing in this bleak dark prison to be happy about, nothing but walls to keep them in because society had failed most of them, like it had failed her daddy, and every kid in here or every kid on the way to being here, like it continued to fail her.

Lekan didn't want to talk about herself, or the lies that they had come to associate with her, she just wanted to be away from this small narrow space that taunted her of death beneath her feet.

"What are the three of you doing here? I'm not sure anyone wants to be here willingly." She asked instead, casting her gaze to the headstone nearest to her, the boys followed her gaze and when she looked back at them they were grinning.

"Poetry." They chorused.

"What?" The idea that these boys could be seeking privacy for something as ordinary as reading poetry was ludicrous to her, not because she didn't expect baby criminals to enjoy poetry but because she had come to imagine that everyone in Mary Slessor was as miserable as she felt, she couldn't imagine any joy here, even though she had seen it back in the cafeteria building, heard it in the chatter that had filled the brightly lit hall.

Lekan wasn't sure if anyone could be happy here, they were all making the best of the worst situation of their lives, and she was determined not to settle for that.

"We come here to read poetry, you know, poems." Shortest said. "I'm Osas, by the way."

"I'm Tunde," The boy on Osas's right said, and nodded at the boy on the left — who in turn gave a slight smile in return, she noticed he wasn't much of a talker and seemed to echo his friends own words with curt nods. "This is Hassan."

"Great, I'm going now," Lekan said flatly, she didn't care to know their names, she was just suddenly tired, wanted nothing more than to bury her face in her new bed and forget everything for a few hours, she wasn't even hungry anymore.

"Have fun with your poems." She added, already walking, briskly, she didn't look back once, not even when she caught sight of a flash of a silhouette on the concrete fence.

***

One day later and Lekan felt stupid, she had let something she might or might not have heard haunt her, and when she woke that morning, the voice she had heard continued to play over in her head like a bad record.

Friendly spirit, darling, but not all of us.

She thought she had heard someone right before Osas and his gang had arrived, she was certain of that, she wasn't the type to be lost in her imagination, she was too busy for that, too busy surviving.

She thought she had heard something, had seen something and for the sake of her sanity, she would either prove herself right or wrong — or go crazy trying. If there was something she hated more than Mary Slessor, it was mysteries and it was ironic that her life seemed to be shrouded in the shadows of it. Lekan decided she would find out if she had truly heard that voice just after she had survived the day — something that would be particularly difficult to do judging by the pranks her roommates had pulled, stooping low to steal her underwear and ripping then to shreds — and also Nehemiah's sudden call.

Lekan's eyes flickered with distaste as she looked suddenly at each girl who appeared to be busying themselves with dressing, they had no care about what they looked like, prancing around naked and arguing over what they would have for breakfast as they dressed, she might have liked them if they weren't after her. She considered speaking up, challenging them but knowing very well that it would only lead to one war after the other until somebody got seriously hurt.

So she swallowed her fury, ignoring the muffled snickers that rose when she put on a pair of shorts instead of underwear, she made a mental note to ask Nehemiah for a small padlock whenever he came to visit. She had been on the line for the girls' bathroom when she had heard her name and had been approached by a panting boy who had explained in one rush that she had a call waiting for her in the Warden's office, although the boy had not specified who called, Lekan knew it could only be Nehemiah.

Her father was long dead and her mother on the threshold of death. She had no one else.

After she dressed, throwing a T-shirt over her shorts, she padded outside, slamming the door hard as if it could erase the already rising whispers. Lekan could only imagine what was being said about her already, girls could be very vicious when it came to words.

As she made the short walk to the Warden's cottage she took in the clean compound and was surprised, one thing she had come to learn in the days past was that the staff of Mary Slessor were slackers, they didn't like to work. The security guards were always snoozing and drinking beer at their posts and she had caught one boy talking about bribing the guards so he and his friends could sneak out at night.

The cook was an angry woman who liked to punish whoever was on dishwashing rotation for the day, her meals were either too salty (like her) or too watery, there was always something wrong with her cooking. It seemed like the only person dedicated to maintaining order was the Warden, without him, it was clear that everything would fall to pieces, it was what made Lekan surprised, that the cleaners had finally decided to do their job and sweep the compounds, someone had even trimmed the hedges and the flowers bloomed.

Lekan shrugged, thinking that maybe there was a government official visiting later in the day for inspection. That was more plausible than the staffs taking responsibility.

It was even more shocking when she entered the Warden's cottage and he welcomed her with a slight smile, she had never seen the Warden smile, not at her or at anyone in Mary Slessor.

"Take a seat, Lekan, while I get Nehemiah on the line." He told her, nodding at the plush leather seat in before him, Lekan war hesitantly, glancing around, the room smelt faintly of honey and looked like an office set for a president, above where the Warden sat, there was air-conditioning and from the low whirl it was assumed that it still worked well.

Lekan knew nothing about tables but his desk was a sleek brown wood and when she caught the Apple symbol on his computer, she whistled. The walls were painted a light blue, and the curtains on the windows were a similar patterned colour, there was also a portrait of a stern looking man on the wall above the door, the picture was black and white, there was something about it that seemed familiar but before she could mull it over, the Warden's cool voice pierced through her thoughts.

"I hope you're finding your stay here enlightening?" The Warden asked as he tapped at the screen of the phone in his hands, his voice was light and pleasant as if he were describing a boarding school.

"I don't like it here." Lekan said flatly. She wasn't going to act pleasant with this man who had been different when she first met him, she almost laughed when he looked up with something like concern in his eyes.

"Well, I'm sure when you begin receiving classes by tomorrow, you'll find things better here."

She doubted that but nodded.

The Warden smiled as he looked at something on his screen, he reached over to hand her the phone in his hands, when she blinked at him in confusion, he said; "Nehemiah's on the line, you may speak with him now."

***

The girl sat at the feet of her father, she looked at him with awe stricken eyes, maybe she saw him as her hero, maybe she was surprised to see him at all, she was not sure, all she knew was that her father was here and he was sitting near her.

She had always loved to sit at the feet of her father when she was little, now at fifteen, she could sit and listen to him without stopping.

Her father smiled down at her, warm and golden like the sun.

"Where did you go, daddy?" She asked, sounding like the child she had once been, the one that had once depended on the safe arms of her father — before she learnt to be her own protection.

"I never left," her father told her, stroking the sides of his daughter's cheek.

The girl smiled, wide and broken, bloody and battered.

"I never will," her father told her.

"No, no, you will, nothing lasts forever." — not even you had lasted.

"I missed you," when he saw her flinch, he frowned. "Are you afraid of me?" He mistook hate for fear, sometimes the girl wondered if it was possible to hate and love someone so deeply.

Did it make her a monster?

Her answer was defiant, a raise of her chin.

Her father laughed, it was a tired laugh.

"Sometimes, Olamilekan, it scares me how nothing seems to scare you."