Adaeze pressed a hand to her forehead. "This is madness. I should be at my desk job tomorrow, worrying about deadlines and rent, not… curses and shadows."
"Yet here you are," Eli said softly. He stepped closer, and the shadows in the room seemed to ripple with him.
Adaeze backed away until her spine touched the wall. "Stay back."
"You'll have to make a choice," he continued, his voice unwavering. "Every decision you make, every step you take… it could tip the balance between safety and destruction."
She shook her head violently. "No. I choose normalcy. I choose sanity. I'm not some heroine in a ghost story—"
The lights flickered. A long, crawling darkness stretched across the ceiling, slow and deliberate, like ink spilling through water. Adaeze's words caught in her throat.
She stumbled to her table, snatching up the Bible again, her voice quivering as she recited Psalm 23. The words broke and trembled, but she clung to them like lifelines.
Eli's eyes softened briefly. The gold glinted almost like compassion, but it was fleeting, buried under his usual intensity. "You are stronger than you know, Adaeze. But strength without guidance is dangerous."
Tears blurred her vision. "Why me?"
He tilted his head. "Because the night is long. And soon, you'll see why your journey led you here."
The shadows thickened, pulsing in rhythm with the storm outside. Thunder cracked in the distance, and the walls seemed to vibrate with the weight of something unseen.
Adaeze tightened her grip on the Bible, her heart torn between terror and reluctant curiosity.
This city, this flat, this night—everything was different. She was far from Lagos, yet somehow… the darkness was closer than ever.
Mini Cliffhanger: What is the family secret? Who—or what—is truly watching her across continents?