Fortune cookies, to me, are just a mix of sugar, flour, and a stupid piece of paper hidden inside by humans. To me, it's just something to keep gullible people blushing. So I never believed in it.
But that was before the messages started coming true.
Now, I’m driving like a madman on third mainland bridge. Racing against time to save the only person I have left.
The weird occurrences all began shortly after the death of my father.
I had just taken over the company as the new CEO. It was a massive logistics firm he built from scratch up to the level it is today. I was still adjusting to the silence that came with his big office. And the opulence too. From the thick carpet that felt like I was stepping into a sinking hole to the leather chair that squeaked when I leaned too far back. The only thing that didn't fight back to me was the glass wall overlooking Lagos like a chessboard. The scenery was beautiful. The only thing that helped me get my mind off the big responsibilities on my shoulders now.
The truth was that I wasn’t ready for the job. I didn't even know how to breathe during board meetings, but I had no choice. My father had died suddenly and mysteriously too. The Doctor said it was a heart attack. But something about it never sat right with me.
His office was the first thing I cleaned out as I resumed work as the new CEO. First with his notebooks, then his files before I studied every signed document. A part of me was just trying to find pieces of him that would speak to me. That’s when I stumbled on something weird. On a particular note he had scribbled different names and numbers and circled them in red.
A further investigation by me revealed that he was tracking financial leaks in the company. Millions of company funds had disappeared from company accounts to strange offshore accounts.
I started digging, quietly. I told no one because I trusted no one yet.
Then came the first cookie.
Mr. Adeleke, one of our oldest board members and a key stakeholder, had invited me for lunch in a restaurant on the outskirts of the town. I had found it weird at first but had gone. He was resigning and handing over some important documents in his possession to me. We’d just signed some documents when the restaurant brought out dessert. It was fortune cookies. He cracked his open and laughed. I wondered what he got.
I did the same. Mine read:
“Not all shadows fall behind you. Be careful where you sit.”
I laughed too. “Nonsense.” I muttered.
But Mr Adeleke looked at me with a serious face and replied. "It's not supposed to be a joke. Take the message seriously. Don't trust anyone in that company."
I tried asking him what he meant. But he wouldn't speak further. He kept acting like we were being watched or listened to.
Later that night, I got a call that Mr Adeleke was dead. His car had run off the bridge. The brakes failed. That was all they told me.
I still didn't believe it. But I took it all as a coincidence.
A week later, it happened again. Mrs. Uwaila, our head of finance, a close ally to my mum and a key stakeholder had invited me to dinner too. Turns out she’d found some gaps in payroll. She promised to show me proof but was scared to do that in the office. She preferred a restaurant too local for a person like her.
"We'll be safer there." She had said.
"From who?" I asked.
"We still don't know yet. But just believe me."
After our discussion, Mrs Uwaila quickly left while I stayed back to finish my meal. When another fortune cookie showed up on my tray. Honestly, I didn't remember ordering dessert. I was sure I never ordered dessert.
I opened it and it read. “When the fire starts, the first to burn is the one closer to the stove.”
I stared at the paper like it would explain itself. But as usual, it didn't make any sense to me. Just humans writing weird stuff on a cookie. I quickly threw it away.
Two days later, Mrs Uwaila's house caught fire while she was cooking. They said it was a gas leak. Her body was found lifeless in the kitchen close to her stove.
That was when it dawned on me that the messages in the cookies weren't mere messages. Someone was speaking to me. The first cookie message must have been from Mr Adeleke. But who sent the second one?
I started watching my back. It was really becoming clear to me that someone inside the company was removing anyone who could expose them to their atrocities. Anyone close to the truth. It was adding up now. My father, Mr Adeleke, and Mrs Uwaila were three key stakeholders who had uncovered the illegalities going on, and they silenced them. Now they were coming for the third and last stakeholder. And that was my mum.
That afternoon I went to lunch with a foreign investor at a new restaurant in Victoria Island after months of avoiding restaurants. I was hesitant to go at first but this was a deal that would yield us a fortune and set the company back on track. So I summoned all the courage in the world and went.
At the end of the meal, the waiter brought out two fortune cookies. I told them I wasn’t interested in fortune cookies but my Asian investors insisted.
"Come on, it’s just a cookie."
I smiled. "What could go wrong?"
"Nothing. You eat it. You read a fortune in it. It might be something big." Their boss had said innocently in his Asian accent.
If only they knew my reasons for avoiding the cookie. But at the same time, I didn't want to hurt the feelings of my investors. So, I picked it up and cracked it open.
“She won’t see the knife coming. But she’ll bleed just the same.” it read.
I froze. The time stopped ticking. Who could it be? I thought.
"My Mum." I gasped, blurting out. My eyes were wide. She was the only key stakeholder left besides me. She’d been acting chairwoman until I stepped in. She knew the company inside out. If anyone still had the kind of information that could bring everything crashing down, it was her.
"Okay?" My investors asked.
But I paid them no attention. I grabbed my car key and ran out of the restaurant. Forgetting my phone on the table. My hands were shaky as I grabbed the wheel. I kept picturing her alone in that house. I should’ve upped our security weeks ago. I cursed myself for being too careless.
I ran every red light on the way there. Pressed my feet hard against the gas till there was nothing left. I got home to the gate wide open. I didn't care to park at my usual spot. I left my door open and ran into the house as fast as my legs could carry me. Pushing through the front door, calling out.
“Mum!”
But no one answered.
I flew the stairs two at a time. The house upstairs smelled like soap and steam. I could hear her shower running. I quickly got into her room and headed for the bathroom door. There she was in the bathtub behind the curtain, humming to her favorite song. She was okay.
I turned to leave, to give her some privacy. But a man dressed in black attacked me from the back. He had a knife with him. I staggered, my hand somehow reached for the vase in Mama's bedroom for balance.
Without thinking. I picked it up and swerved with the last strength in me. Slamming the vase into the side of his head. He dropped immediately, the knife clattering to the floor.
My mum screamed. She pulled the curtain and slipped trying to stand, but I caught her.
“Where's your phone? Let's call the police,” I said.
The police arrived later. Just before the intruder would wake up. They found a burner phone in his pocket. It had messages from his boss and bank transfers. The police traced everything back to Mr Ugonna, our internal auditor. One of the men my father had circled in red.
He was the brain behind all these. He and a few others were trying to cover up their stealing of company funds by killing anyone who got too close to knowing the truth. My father had figured it out. That’s why they killed him. Adeleke and Uwaila got too close, too, and they were eliminated. And now they wanted my mum gone too. Even though she knew nothing. They felt Adeleke and Uwaila had told get something.
Mr Ugonna was arrested days later as he was trying to flee the country. The money trail led to the arrest of the others too.
Well, I never found out who was sending the cookies. But I haven’t touched one since. I just don't dare to know the next thing a cookie might say.
[Image Source](https://pixabay.com/photos/fortune-cookie-fortune-cookie-luck-5680728/)
