Part 2 Episode 2

The voice made him shiver.

A woman stepped out from behind the fig tree.

She wore a cloak made of leaves, and her face stayed hidden in its shadow.

In her hand was a wooden stick covered in marks that reminded Otieno of the ones his grandmother used to draw for protection.

"I need help," Otieno said, his voice breaking.

"My sister can't stop coughing. She's getting worse every day."

The woman stood still, like she was looking right through him. "You think I made her sick?"

Otieno couldn't stop shaking.

He nodded, remembering those bright green eyes he'd seen that day.

"After we saw you... everything went bad."

"Tell me what you did here." Her voice wasn't angry, but it left no room for lies.

The truth spilled out like water.

"We acted like fools.

We broke things. Stole fruit. Carved our names. We thought it was just fun."

She made a sound - almost like laughter, but not happy.

"Do you really think I spend my days cursing children who act foolish?"

"But everyone says you're a witch-"

"I protect this forest," she cut him off.

"It's not about curses. When you take too much, you must give back. That's all."

Otieno felt tears burning in his eyes. "What should I do?"

The woman pointed her stick at the fig tree, at his name carved in its bark.

"Go home. Tell everyone what you did. Then come back ready to work. Plant new trees. Fix what you broke."

"But my sister..." He couldn't finish. The thought of her coughing blood was too much.

The woman's voice softened, like his mother's did when he was scared.

"The forest doesn't want anyone to suffer. It just needs balance.

Make things right, and your sister will get better."

Otieno stared at his name on the tree.

Each letter was like a small wound he'd made. Slowly, he nodded.

"Come back when you're ready to begin," she said.

Then she was gone, like mist in the morning sun.

The clearing felt different now. The trees didn't seem so scary anymore.

But Otieno knew they were waiting to see what he would do next.

He stood up on shaky legs. Telling the truth would be hard.

The work would be harder.

But he thought of Wanja, his sister, how she smiled even when she was sick. He had to try.

As he walked home, rain started falling softly through the leaves. It felt like forgiveness.

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