The city didn't always shout.
Sometimes, it whispered.
That was what struck Jay the most as he walked home that evening. After everything that had happened in Chapter 21—the tension, the warnings, the almost-fight that never fully exploded—the streets felt unusually calm. Too calm.
Neon lights still blinked. Buses still groaned. People still hustled.
But inside him, something had shifted.
He replayed Kemi's words again and again.
"Guy, this life you're entering… e no get reverse."
Jay tightened his hoodie around himself as he reached the narrow passage that led to his building. For the first time in a long while, he wasn't thinking about money or survival. He was thinking about choices.
And about Zara.
---
Inside his room, the air felt heavy. Jay dropped onto the bed without turning on the light. The cracked ceiling stared back at him like it always did, but tonight it felt closer.
His phone buzzed.
A message.
Zara:
You disappeared today.
Jay stared at the screen longer than necessary. His fingers hovered, unsure.
Jay:
Had stuff to handle.
Three dots appeared. Disappeared. Then appeared again.
Zara:
You always say that.
He sighed and sat up, finally switching on the light. The room looked the same—bare, quiet, lonely—but the feeling wasn't.
Jay:
Some things aren't easy to explain.
A pause.
Zara:
Then don't explain. Just don't shut me out.
That line hit harder than any punch ever could.
Jay leaned back against the wall. He wasn't used to anyone caring enough to notice when he pulled away. People in his world usually minded their business—or waited to take advantage.
Jay:
I'm not used to people staying.
Another pause.
Zara:
Then maybe it's time you get used to it.
Jay smiled without realizing it.
---
The next morning, Kemi found him sitting outside, staring into space.
"Guy, you don wake up early today," Kemi said, squatting beside him. "You no sleep?"
Jay shook his head. "Sleep came, but rest no follow."
Kemi laughed softly, then turned serious. "Na Zara."
Jay didn't deny it.
Kemi exhaled. "I like her vibe, I won't lie. But listen to me carefully—your life dey junction now. Anything you choose fit change everything."
Jay nodded slowly. "I know."
"Good," Kemi said. "Because once people enter your heart, them dey hard to protect."
---
Later that day, Jay met Zara near the small café she liked—the one place in the area that tried to pretend the city was gentler than it really was.
She wore a simple jacket, hair pulled back, eyes sharp as ever.
"You look tired," she said.
"So do you."
She smiled faintly. "Sit."
They did.
For a moment, neither spoke.
Then Zara broke the silence. "You're changing, Jay."
He looked at her. "Is that a bad thing?"
"I don't know," she admitted. "But I want to understand you before you become someone I don't recognize."
Jay stared at his hands. This was the part he was bad at—the honest part.
"My parents didn't plan this life for me," he said quietly. "But plans don't mean much where I'm from."
Zara listened. Didn't interrupt. Didn't judge.
"I don't want to drag you into anything," he added.
She leaned closer. "Maybe I want to walk in myself."
Their eyes met.
The moment stretched—not romantic, not dramatic—just real.
---
As Jay walked home later, a familiar figure watched from across the street.
The same man.
The same cold eyes.
"Careful, kid," the man muttered to himself. "Hearts make weak armor."
Jay felt it then—the sense of being watched.
And for the first time, he realized something important:
The danger wasn't just the streets anymore.
It was what he was starting to care about.