CHAPTER EIGHT: THE FALL
The rain had been falling for three days straight. Lagos streets were rivers, and the city felt heavier than ever. Zainab walked home from a meeting with Kunle, the journalist, feeling the weight of her choices pressing down on her chest.
Her phone buzzed in her pocket. A message from Tomiwa:
"Where are you? Chief called. Don't leave me hanging."
Zainab stared at the screen. She wanted to delete the message. She wanted to run back to Ijebu and forget this world existed. But the thought of her mother's hospital bills stopped her.
Later that evening, Tomiwa arrived, looking more polished than ever. Her smile didn't reach her eyes.
"Zee, you're acting strange," Tomiwa said as soon as she stepped in. "You're not… into it anymore, huh?"
Zainab hesitated. "I… I just feel like something isn't right. Like we're not really living, just pretending."
Tomiwa's face hardened. "You think I don't know what you're feeling? Welcome to Lagos, Zee. You're not the only one who's scared. But you don't get to complain. You made your choice."
Zainab's throat tightened. "I didn't make a choice. I just… I'm trapped."
Tomiwa sighed and sat heavily. "Trapped? Ha! Zee, you've been on this ride for months. The trap was set before you even came here. Don't blame me. Don't blame yourself. Just… survive."
The next day, Zainab tried to avoid Chief. She called Kunle instead, asking him for advice.
"Zee," he said cautiously, "he's not a man you can reason with. The longer you stay, the more control he has. If you want out, you need a plan. Don't trust Tomiwa blindly. She's in deep too."
Zainab hung up, her hands trembling. The walls of her life were closing in. She realized that every luxury — the apartment, the car, the gifts — was part of a chain. She had traded comfort for control, and now that chain was tightening.
That evening, Chief called her into his office. He was charming as ever, but the charm couldn't hide the edge in his voice.
"I heard you've been speaking to journalists," he said slowly. "Careful, Zainab. Not everyone is happy to see their secrets exposed."
Zainab tried to respond. "I wasn't—"
"Silence is better sometimes," he interrupted. "You'll understand one day."
He handed her another envelope, this one smaller, but heavy. Money. Zainab understood instantly: a reward for obedience, a reminder of control.
She left the office, feeling the weight of every decision she'd made. That night, she finally cried — not for the money she had, but for the life she had lost.
Tomiwa came by the apartment later. She had heard about the conversation with Chief.
"Zee, you have to play along," Tomiwa urged. "It's the only way to survive. Don't let him see weakness."
Zainab looked at her friend, the person she had trusted most. And in that look, she realized something worse than fear: betrayal.
Tomiwa had dragged her here, promised guidance, but had also sold her into a world where freedom was a fantasy.
Zainab's hands shook as she whispered to herself: "I have to get out. Somehow."
The next morning, she packed a small bag in secret. Money, clothes, her mother's photographs — the few things that still belonged to her. She would go to Kunle, and from there, she hoped, she could find a way to escape this golden cage.
But as she stepped outside, she noticed a car parked across the street. Two men in black suits were watching the building.
Zainab froze. The fall had begun.