The clock said 9:47PM.Zainab sat on the edge of her bed, already dressed.
All black.Black top, black jeans, black scarf. No jewelry. No perfume. Just silence and breath.
Outside, Mushin was alive like a beast that refused to sleep—motorcycles revving, beer parlors screaming Kizz Daniel, a woman cursing her cheating husband near the vulcanizer's shade.
But Zainab? She was still.
Inside her chest, a storm.
She glanced at the Google location again. The pin hovered over a warehouse compound near Agege Motor Road—one of those unmarked buildings people passed every day but never asked questions about.
Fatiha stood by the door, arms folded, hijab thrown over her shoulder like a soldier's sash.
"You're still going?" she asked again.
Zainab nodded. "I need to know why he dragged me back into this."
"What if it's a trap?"
Zainab zipped up her bag. Inside: her phone, ₦3,000, her small Qur'an, and a sharp tailor's scissors wrapped in brown paper.
"Then let them trap me," she said. "But I won't walk in blind."
Fatiha exhaled. "I swear, Zee, you're either very brave or very—"
"—Tired," Zainab finished.
And it was true.
She wasn't acting strong. She was just tired of running, of watching her back, of feeling powerless.
10:09PM.
The Keke dropped her a street before the pinned location. She walked the rest of the way. Alone. The road was quiet, unusually so. Even the dogs weren't barking.
A tall iron gate stood in front of the compound. One side slightly open, like someone was expecting her.
She walked in.
Darkness.
But she kept going.
Her heart didn't beat—it pounded.
Past broken-down trailers and forgotten tyres. Then a voice.
"Zainab."
She froze.
Obinna stepped out of the shadows.
Plain black T-shirt. Joggers. His hands in his pockets like he didn't just invite her into a place that looked like death.
"Why here?" she asked.
"Because here is safe," he said.
"Safe?" she snapped. "After you had people follow me? Watch me? Threaten me?!"
"I didn't threaten you," he said, calm. "I warned you."
She stepped closer.
"You knew Dapo. You knew what happened in Ilorin. You knew everything before you walked into my shop pretending to be a customer."
Obinna's jaw tightened. "Yes."
Silence.
The rain began to fall, soft at first, then heavier—like the heavens couldn't hold the tension either.
"Why me?" she whispered.
"Because Dapo is alive," he replied. "And he's not just running scams anymore."
Zainab blinked. Her voice dropped. "What do you mean?"
Obi stepped forward.
"He's laundering money through legit businesses now. Real estate. Importation. NGOs. You're not just a past mistake to him, Zee. You're the only person who can prove how he started. And if the EFCC ever arrests him—you're the key witness."
Zainab's legs wobbled slightly.
Obi continued, his tone lower now. "You're in danger because he's watching you. And the only reason you're still breathing is because I told him you're harmless."
Zainab stepped back, heart pounding.
"So you're working for him?"
"No," Obi said. "I'm working against him."
Another silence.
This time longer.
"I used to be like him," Obi said. "Same circle. Same greed. Until I lost everything. My brother. My fiancée. Myself."
Zainab watched his eyes. She didn't trust him. Not fully. But there was pain there. A real kind. The kind you don't rehearse.
"So what do you want from me now?"
He sighed. "Help me bury him. Legally. I'll protect you. But I need you to talk to someone—someone in government. Trustworthy. Once. Then I'll disappear."
Zainab looked away. The rain hit her face like sharp fingers. Her scarf was soaked. Her mind torn.
She had promised herself never to get involved again.
Never.
But then again, how do you promise safety when the past keeps following you with eyes in the dark?
She didn't answer him.
She turned. Walked away.
Back to the street. Back into the noise of Lagos.
But inside her heart, something had shifted.
Obi's words had planted a seed.
And whether she liked it or not, it was already growing.