The night after the festival felt oddly still. The music had faded, the fires were out, and the only sound was the gentle chirping of crickets outside Olivia's window.
She was restless. She had danced, laughed, even smiled genuinely for the first time in months. Yet something about Chidera's calm, mysterious way of talking had gotten under her skin.
He was too perfect for this place. Too composed. Too wise for someone who claimed to be just another corper from Nsukka.
Unable to sleep, she decided to tidy up her locker — mostly to distract herself. As she arranged her books, a folded piece of paper slipped out of her dictionary.
She froze.
It wasn't her handwriting.
It wasn't even her paper.
Her curiosity flared immediately. She opened it — carefully, cautiously — and there it was: a letter written in clean, elegant penmanship.
"...I trust the uniforms arrived safely. Don't worry, your identity will remain protected until the end of her posting. This experience will teach her more than any luxury in Lagos ever could. She must not know yet."
Olivia's breath caught.
She read it again, her heart pounding.
"Her identity"?
"Teach her"?
"Until the end of her posting"?
Then her eyes drifted to the signature. The name was half-smeared, but one line was clear enough to burn into her mind:
"With prayers, Mrs Okoro".
Her mother.
The world around her spun.
The letter wasn't addressed to her.
It was written about her.
And the name at the top?
"Chidera O. — confidential."
She stumbled back onto the bed, the letter trembling in her hands.
"Wait… what?"
The realization hit like thunder.
Chidera wasn't just another corper.
He knew her mother.
And this — this wasn't coincidence.
The next morning was heavy with silent rage. Olivia didn't join the others for breakfast, didn't talk, didn't smile. She watched from the window as Chidera chatted with some villagers, completely unaware of the storm he had triggered.
Every time she looked at him, flashes of the letter replayed in her mind.
Her mother had planned this?
He had lied?
Was her entire posting a setup?
When he returned to the lodge that afternoon, she was waiting at the doorway, the letter clutched in her fist.
"Olivia, you didn't eat this morning," he said gently. "You okay?"
She gave a short laugh — dry, brittle. "Oh, I'm perfect. Just wondering if I should thank you or call you what you really are."
His brows furrowed. "What do you mean?"
She stepped closer, voice low and shaking. "I found your little letter. The one from my mother. So, tell me, Chidera — who are you really?"
He blinked, caught off guard. "You read that?"
"Of course, I did! You think I'm stupid? What kind of corper borrows uniforms? Who writes letters about training someone like a lab experiment?"
Chidera exhaled slowly, rubbing the back of his neck. "Olivia… I didn't mean to deceive you. Your mum wanted—"
"Oh, please!" she cut in. "Don't you dare bring her into this. You all think I'm some spoiled Lagos girl who needed a moral lesson, right?"
Her voice cracked, eyes glistening. "You could've just told me the truth."
He stared at her for a long moment, guilt clouding his expression. "Would you have stayed if I had?"
Silence.
That one question shattered her anger.
Because deep down, she knew the answer — she wouldn't have.
Still, she turned away, clutching the letter tightly.
"I don't even know who you are anymore," she whispered.
He didn't try to stop her as she walked out, tears finally spilling down her cheeks.
That night, Chidera sat outside the lodge, staring at the stars — while Olivia lay on her bed, staring at the ceiling.
The same sky covered them both, yet they'd never felt further apart.