Olayinka strode through the grand vaulted chamber of the convention hall, the cool touch of the granite columns made his hair stand to attention. The room echoed with the murmur of voices, the shuffle of feet on the stone floor, and the occasional clink of glasses. Twenty individuals occupied the seats.
His gaze fell upon a blonde woman seated closest to the podium, her striking yellow eyes meeting his own. The woman, a formidable figure in her own right, exuded an air of authority in her black business suit dress and chignon. As she adjusted her thick-rimmed glasses upon noticing Olayinka's approach, a flicker of recognition crossed her features.
"Natasha," Olayinka greeted her with a gentle smile as he sat next to her, though it did little to mask the concern etched into his features.
"How is Ilmarinen?" Natasha asked, her tone laced with worry.
"Not as well as I had hoped," Olayinka confessed. "He seems lost in his own thoughts, unable to remember even me. Also, he arrived with the doll he crafted twelve years ago. A doll that looks like Marjatta."
Natasha's brow furrowed in consternation. "Twelve years, as long as her absence."
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"I fear for him," Olayinka admitted, a heavy sigh escaping his lips. "Since her passing, he has spiraled into a series of reckless actions. He even went as far as to argue for that woman's sentence to be reduced." He shook his head, his heart heavy with the weight of Ilmarinen's burdens.
She nodded.
"He doesn't even recognize who I am. He certainly won't remember you either."
Natasha's expression softened, a glimmer of understanding in her eyes. "Do not take it personally. Perhaps the weight of that tragedy has become too much for him to bear. To see him, once the most influential lawyer among all the hidden cities, reduced to a mere shadow of himself... it is unbelievable. Even the woman in question was taken aback by his unexpected intervention, suspecting it to be a trap, but he succeeded in sparing her from the death penalty."
"I cannot shake off this worry," Olayinka admitted, a furrow of concern marring his brow. "I dread to think of the turmoil raging within his mind. He wasn't even aware of the existence of the secret room in the Secretary's office, despite having been the former Secretary himself."
Natasha offered him a reassuring smile. "Take heart, Olayinka. Would you care for some coffee to ease your troubled thoughts?"
They rose from their seats in unison, the sound of their footsteps mingling with the hum of conversation as they made their way to the cafeteria. The scent of freshly brewed coffee wafted through the air, mingling with the soft clinking of mugs and the murmurs of other patrons.