The ride home from Umuchika was silent and arduous. Dust clung to the windows, and the burden of what they'd unearthed pressed down on both Laila and Cassian like a second skin. The Subject 14: O-labeled folder remained closed in her bag, its secrets a storm waiting to break. The sun was low on the horizon when they arrived at the city, casting elongated shadows across the skyline. Street lamps started to hum to life, each one following the other, like reluctant guards over a weary city. Laila leaned her head against the glass. "Cassian, suppose I release these documents? Suppose I come forward?" "You put a bullseye on your back," he replied softly. "But you lit a fire to all they were trying to conceal." She looked at him. "And if I say nothing?" He was not silent. He did not have to be. Slowly, the gates creaked open at Aunty Yemisi's compound. Kemi was already in the doorway, arms crossed, face expressionless. "You've been away too long," she sneered. "We were worried." Laila stepped out of the car and smiled wearily at her. "I have something."Kemi's eyes narrowed. "More than you bargained for?" "Much more." A murmur of low conversation and shuffling papers came from inside the house. Tobi hunched over his laptop, lines of code scrolling across the screen. Photographs and maps were pinned to the walls, a mosaic of secret truths. Laila placed the folder on the table. "This is from the original compound. Files. Names. Testimonies. Enough to bring the Brotherhood down." Yemisi came from the corridor, her face pale. She grasped one of the sheets and read. Her hand trembled a bit. "You discovered her notes," she whispered. "The ones we believed we'd lost." "She made them last," Laila said. "Even if she didn't." The room fell silent. And then Kemi stepped forward. "We'll verify everything. Cross-check. Obasi's database was huge. We can't afford mistakes." Cassian nodded. "We don't have any more time than we do. There are eyes all around." Tobi looked up. "We need to go dark. At least for a while now." Laila clutched the edge of the table. "No more running. This story has to be told. Loudly." She couldn't sleep. She was standing in front of a shattered mirror in her room, the pendant weakly glowing under the moonlight. Her mother's journal and lines ran through her mind. "Truth doesn't fix the past. But it keeps the future honest." She took off the pendant and placed it next to the journal on her desk. Then she opened her laptop. A blank page stared back at her. Slowly, she began to type with her fingers. My name is Laila Okoye. My mother was Mira Okoye, whistleblower and first member of the Ivory Veil. She died for the truth. I intend to live for it. She sat down and wrote for hours. Every page of the file, every detail of the activities of the Brotherhood, every witness statement they had taken was included in the report. She had twenty-seven pages of damning proof at dawn, bound by her voice. She titled it Ashes and Names. The next morning, the compound was alive with movement. Kemi coordinated encrypted uploads. Tobi masked IP addresses. Yemisi made phone calls to old contacts who owed Mira more than they admitted. Cassian stood beside Laila as she prepared to send the file to a network of underground journalists and rights organizations. "You're sure about this?" he asked. Laila nodded. "She didn't build all this for silence." She clicked Send. Somewhere in the city, the first of countless dominoes toppled. Three hours later, the counterattack began. The power wavered. Signals were jammed. An unmarked van came by the gate twice. Tobi ran inside with a phone clutched in his hand. "They're trying to trace us. Traffic on the server is being rerouted, but they know something spilled." Cassian wasted no time. "Bag everything. Hard drives, documents, Mira's journal. We're leaving in thirty minutes.". Yemisi didn't grumble. Neither did Kemi. In the midst of chaos, Laila stood still for a moment. The morning sunlight streamed through the window, heating her skin. She wasn't afraid. She was ready. It was empty by nightfall. They had moved to a derelict schoolhouse on the outskirts of the city. Its broken chalkboards and creaky floors were now the new base of their rebellion. Laila sat in a dusty old classroom, full of shadows and soft hums of generators. Her phone vibrated beside her. It was a message. From: Unknown Subject: Ashes and Names Message: "We got your files. We believe you. The world will hear your story." She looked up. Cassian stood in the doorway, watching her. "We're not finished," she said. "No," he agreed. "We're just starting."Far away and quiet, night lay outside. But amidst the silence, something was taking shape. Not only based on revenge. But on names. On truth. And on the unyielding weight of those who chose to speak.
