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A faint, humorless smile touched his mouth. “Apparently.”
“Then why would someone want to hurt you?”
His eyes darkened. “I don’t know. Not fully.”
“Then you stay here until we know.”
He looked at her. “You are protecting me?”
“You are still alive,” she replied. “I would like to keep it that way.”
But secrets were currency in Makoko.
And Mama Bisi had seen enough.
That night, she came to Zora’s shack.
“I saw those men,” Mama Bisi said. “They were looking for someone important.”
Zora said nothing.
Mama Bisi smiled slowly. “If you are hiding something valuable, I deserve a share.”
“There is nothing here.”
“You are a bad liar.”
Then she left.
But not alone.
Hours later, three men came.
Rough men. Hungry men. Men who did not ask permission.
They pushed into Zora’s shack and saw Obinna sitting weakly against the wall.
“Well,” one of them said. “Look what we have here.”
Zora stepped in front of him.
“You’re not taking him.”
The man laughed. “And you will stop us?”
“No.”
The smile left his face. “Move.”
“No.”
He struck her.
The sound cracked through the room. Zora hit the wall and fell. Kelechi screamed. Obinna tried to stand, but his body failed him.
“Leave her alone!” he shouted.
The men grabbed him.
“Good,” one said. “He can talk. That makes him worth more.”
Zora crawled forward, blood in her mouth.
“Please. He is hurt.”
“Stay down.”
They dragged Obinna toward the door.
He looked back once.
Their eyes met.
“You should have told them,” he said quietly.
Zora shook her head. “No.”
Then they were gone.
For a moment, the shack was silent.
Empty.
Kelechi crawled to her side, crying.
“Sister, what will you do?”
Zora slowly pushed herself up.
Her cheek throbbed. Her body ached. Fear moved through her, but something stronger rose above it.
“I am going to get him back.”
She did not wait for morning.
Old Sani at the edge of the market had seen the men.
“They went toward the old dock,” he whispered. “Near the abandoned warehouses.”
“Thank you.”
“Zora, men like that do not take people for nothing.”
“I know.”
“Sometimes they don’t bring them back.”
She looked at him.
“They will this time.”
The abandoned warehouses stood dark and rotting near the river. Zora moved quietly along a broken wall until she saw light through a crack.
Inside, Obinna was tied to a chair.
Alive.
Three men stood near him.
“You are worth more than we expected,” one said.
Obinna lifted his head. “Who sent you?”
The man laughed. “You think we work for someone?”
“You are not organized enough to do this alone.”
The man’s smile vanished.
Zora stepped back, heart pounding.
She had no weapon. No backup. No plan.
Then she saw a rusted fuel container near the side of the building.
Dangerous.
But possible.
She dragged it quietly, tipped it near the back entrance, and spilled the fuel across the ground.
Then she struck fire.
Flames ran along the ground.
“Fire!” someone shouted inside.
Chaos erupted.
Zora slipped through the side entrance and ran to Obinna.
“Zora?” His eyes widened.
“Don’t talk.”
She worked at the ropes, fingers slipping, smoke building around them.
“Check the back!” a man shouted.
The knot gave.
“Stand.”
Obinna tried. His legs nearly failed. Zora caught him.
“Lean on me.”
They stumbled through smoke toward the exit. Behind them, men shouted.
They burst into the night air.
But they were not safe yet.
The men came after them.
Zora pulled Obinna down a narrow path between broken structures. His weight grew heavier with every step. She knew they could not outrun them.
There.
A half-collapsed storage shed.
“Inside,” she whispered.
They slipped in just as footsteps thundered past.
Obinna’s breathing was too loud. Zora grabbed his hand.
“Slowly,” she whispered. “Breathe slowly.”
He followed her rhythm.
In.
Out.
In.
Out.
The footsteps faded.
When they emerged, the night was thinning.
Obinna looked toward the city lights.
“I know somewhere we can go.”
“You remember?”
“Enough.”
At the roadside, Obinna stopped a passing car and asked for a phone. The driver hesitated until Obinna said his name.
“My name is Obinna Adeyemi.”
The man froze.
Then he handed over the phone immediately.
Obinna dialed.
The line rang twice.
A voice answered.
“It’s me,” Obinna said.
Silence.
Then, “Sir?”
“I’m alive. But not safe. Send a team. Discreet. No noise. No one outside the inner circle.”
When he ended the call, Zora looked at him.
“Everything changes now.”
“Yes,” he said. “It does.”
Minutes later, headlights appeared.
One.
Then two.
Then five.
Black Cadillacs moved in perfect formation, silent and powerful. They stopped in front of them, doors opening at once. Men in dark suits stepped out, controlled and alert.
One of them walked to Obinna.
“Sir.”
Obinna nodded. “I’m fine.”
The man’s eyes moved to Zora. “Who is she?”
Obinna did not hesitate.
“The reason I’m alive.”
Zora stood barefoot beside the road, bruised and exhausted, while five Cadillacs idled before her.
For the first time in her life, the world seemed to pause and wait for her answer.
“Come with us,” Obinna said.
Zora shook her head. “This is your world. Not mine.”
“You saved my life.”
“That does not change where I belong.”
“It changes everything.”
Then she thought of Kelechi.
“My brother,” she said. “He is still in Makoko.”
“We’ll bring him.”
“You don’t understand. He is sick. He needs real care.”
“Then he will get it.”
She searched his face for hesitation.
There was none.