It was 11:15 a.m. The Executive Conference Room doors, at the 17th Floor of the LewisTech was sealed.
The boardroom gleamed under a canopy of glass. Sunlight poured in through floor-to-ceiling windows, casting a golden glow over the polished mahogany table. Everything was set. Clean water glasses, digital tablets, projection screens, prepared for what would be one of the company's most anticipated sign-offs.
At the head of the table sat Daniel Lewis, dressed in a charcoal three-piece suit, crisp and composed, yet radiating quiet authority.
Across from him were the NovaCom representatives,
Mrs. Ijeoma Ibe, NovaCom's iron-willed tech lead, and
Mr. Emeka Asor, their diplomatic CFO.
A large screen displayed the ViVa System interface, a seamless virtual assistant platform designed to integrate directly into NovaCom's consumer tech. ViVa was sleek, adaptive, multilingual, and AI-driven. Months of sleepless development had led to this very moment.
Daniel glanced to his left where Alex, his head of AI and engineering, nodded, ready with the final demo.
"Shall we begin?" Daniel's voice was calm but confident.
Alex tapped the screen, and ViVa came to life.
"Good morning, NovaCom team. This is ViVa, your new virtual assistant. I am designed to serve your clients in English, Yoruba, Hausa, and Igbo. I offer real-time call assistance, smart scheduling, and mobile network optimization. Please, ask me anything."
Mrs. Ibe leaned forward. "ViVa, what is my current data usage for the month?"
"Hello Mrs. Ibe. You've used 3.7GB out of your 5GB plan. You have 1.3GB remaining and your plan renews in 4 days."
Mr. Emeka tested next: "ViVa, schedule a 10 a.m. team briefing next Wednesday and notify the department."
"Meeting scheduled for Wednesday, 10 a.m. All department members will be notified via NovaCom calendar sync and SMS. Would you like me to set a reminder?"
He smiled. "Yes."
Alex turned to Daniel with a subtle nod. The test was flawless.
Mrs. Ibe leaned back, her arms crossed but a smile tugging at her lips. "Seamless, responsive… multilingual, just as promised. You've delivered, Mr. Lewis."
Daniel gave a modest smile. "At LewisTech, we don't just meet expectations, we future-proof them."
Mr. Emeka laughed. "That's one for the brochures."
Moments later, the final contract was brought to the table. A deep blue folder embossed with both company logos.
Daniel slid it across. "Shall we make it official?"
One by one, signatures were laid down. With the final stroke of ink, the deal was sealed.
Project ViVa was now live.
Daniel stood and extended a hand. "To partnership."
Mrs. Ibe took it firmly. "To innovation."
Cameras clicked as the moment was captured. A legacy in the making.
And as NovaCom's team left the room with satisfied smiles, Daniel looked out through the glass, eyes sharp, posture still, knowing that this was just one milestone. Bigger battles lay ahead.
But today?
LewisTech won.
And around two in the afternoon, and Esther had just finished her second class of the day at UNIMAC University. Her body was present, seated and breathing, but her mind was lost in thoughts of Betty, worried about how she was doing or what she might be going through. The weight of it lingered heavily on her chest. She wanted to call it a day and head home, but Dija had texted, asking to meet up, and Esther didn't want to let her down.
With a deep sigh, she sat in the campus cafeteria, her eyes buried in her phone, patiently waiting.
"Sorry, did I keep you waiting long?" Dija asked, rushing in as she dropped into the chair beside her friend, placing her bag on the table.
"I had to submit my assignment to our class rep, who was nowhere to be found," she added with a frustrated sigh.
"It's okay," Esther replied gently. "Were you able to submit it then?"
"Yeah, I ended up giving it to his assistant," Dija answered. She waved to the familiar server. "May, the usual, please."
"And you?" Dija asked, turning back to her friend.
"I'm good. I had something before coming," Esther said, though truthfully, she had no appetite. Her mind was too clouded with worry.
"So… how's Betty doing? Mom told me what happened."
Esther's expression flickered in surprise for just a second. Of course Dija's family would have heard. They were the third most powerful family in the country. An incident like last night's would've reached their ears by morning.
"She's coping," Esther answered truthfully. "I'm just… a bit worried."
"I understand. No child should have to go through what she did, especially not from Aunt Jariatu," Dija said, flashing a polite smile as May returned with her order.
"That woman is a walking storm," Esther muttered. "She carries so much hate. I'd be damned to be related to someone like her."
Dija chuckled, taking a bite of her shawarma. "She wasn't always like that. The accident caused a lot of rifts."
"Still, it feels personal, like she's projecting something deeper," Esther said, brows furrowing.
"She is," Dija replied. "She always resented Uncle Daniel, even before Aunt Marian's death."
Esther blinked, curiosity rising. "Why?"
"The Jalloh family never supported Aunt Marian's marriage to him. They're from different cultural backgrounds, different religions. Aunt Marian was Muslim. Uncle Daniel is Christian."
Esther's expression shifted in realization. It was starting to make sense. The silent wars, the bitterness in Jariatu's eyes, the subtle coldness from Marian's side of the family.
"They're Fulahs. Uncle Daniel is Krio. The worst combo, if you ask them," Dija added with a dry laugh.
Esther nodded slowly. It wasn't new to hear of cultural boundaries in marriage, especially among Fulahs, where marrying within the group was considered a way of maintaining peace, tradition, and spiritual alignment.
"But Aunt Marian was strong-willed. She defied her family and married Uncle Daniel anyway. That led to three years of silence between them. They later made peace… but the scars never fully healed."
Dija leaned back in her seat, her voice soft. "You know the rest."
Esther was quiet for a moment, absorbing every bit of what Dija had said. It felt like the puzzle pieces were slowly starting to click into place , not just about Betty, but the entire Lewis household and the forces that shaped it.
"No wonder she carries so much weight," Esther finally said, her voice soft. "Betty… she's not just grieving her mother, she's carrying a war she doesn't even understand."
Dija nodded slowly, chewing with less focus now. "Exactly. And uncle Daniel, he's fighting that war too. But the thing is… he doesn't talk about it. Never has. After aunt Marian died, he became a ghost of himself. Silent. Always working, never seen at events unless it was necessary."
Esther lowered her eyes to her empty hands. "I thought I understood him a little, but it's like… every new day, I find out something more that makes me realize how much pain he's been burying."
"And yet," Dija added gently, "he let you in."
Esther glanced up, caught off guard.
"I mean, I know my uncle. He doesn't let anyone close. Especially not women. But you… he listens when you speak. He watches you like he's afraid of blinking. And Betty… she clings to you like you're her anchor."
A lump rose in Esther's throat. She looked away, blinking hard. "It's not easy, Dija. I'm just trying to do right by them. And sometimes I don't even know what that is."
"You already are," Dija said, placing a comforting hand over Esther's. "Trust me, it shows. Whatever storm they were in before, your presence is like sunlight breaking through it."
For a moment, neither of them said anything. The cafeteria noise faded into the background as Esther let that thought settle in her heart.
Then, her phone buzzed on the table. She glanced at it , a notification from LewisTech official website . A press release: "Project ViVa Officially Sealed with NovaCom. A Historic Partnership."
Esther showed the screen to Dija.
"Wow," Dija said, eyebrows lifted. "He pulled it off."
Esther smiled faintly. "He really did."
Dija gave her a knowing look. "That man's building an empire. And somehow, you're becoming the heart of it."
Somehow the day went by in a drop, night clouds had covered the sky.
Sarah stood in front of the full-length mirror, adjusting the deep V of her silk dress one last time. The fabric shimmered under the warm glow of the hotel lamp, clinging to her curves like a secret she was about to trade. She'd picked this place, a private boutique hotel in the city, not too lavish to draw attention, but expensive enough to send a message.
The air was thick with perfume and ambition.
A knock came. Three taps. Just like the card had instructed.
She opened the door.
John stepped in, all smirks and cologne, dressed like a man who thought he held the cards. His eyes trailed down her body with the confidence of someone who knew exactly what had been agreed upon, even if it had never been said aloud.
"You look…" he whistled low, "convincing."
Sarah didn't smile. She stepped aside, letting the door click shut behind him.
"You know why I'm here," she said, her voice smooth but empty.
"And I know what you want." John unbuttoned his blazer, tossing it on the chair without care. "You're doing this for her? The one who's got dirt on you?"
"Let's not talk," she said, moving past him toward the bed, her heels tapping against the hardwood floor like a ticking clock.
John followed, loosening his tie.
"You sure this is worth it? A job for Harriet? She must know something real dangerous."
Sarah said nothing. Instead, she sat on the edge of the bed, reached behind to unzip her dress, and let the straps fall off her shoulders.
It wasn't about Harriet anymore.
It was about survival.
About controlling the narrative before it controlled her.
John stepped closer, his hand grazing her bare shoulder. "You could've just ignored her. She has no proof."
"But her mouth," Sarah said coldly, "doesn't need proof to destroy me."
She climbed the bed like it was a battlefield she'd already lost on principle, and served. Quietly. Detached.
John didn't bother pretending this was passion.
And Sarah didn't flinch. She'd made her choice hours ago.
When it was over, she slipped into the bathroom, closed the door, and stared at herself in the mirror. Her makeup was still intact. But her eyes looked… hollow. Braver than they'd been earlier, but tired.
She washed her hands. Fixed her lipstick. Then walked out, collected her purse, and before leaving, looked at John still half-naked on the bed.
"You'll give her the job."
He nodded lazily, stretching. "Consider it done."
"Good," she said, her voice cool and sharp as glass. "Because if you don't…" she paused, her eyes locking with his, "I'll start talking. And I don't care who listens."
She walked out, heels clicking again, this time louder. Steadier.
And just a hour by Sarah was at the Cole apartment. The door creaked open with a push, and Sarah stepped inside.
Dark.
Cold.
Silent.
No sounds of her mother humming in the kitchen. No laughter from Zianab or Esther's usual from phone calls. No warm scent of food, no TV humming low. Just stillness, like even the walls refused to welcome her tonight.
She dropped her bag by the door, kicked off her heels, and walked barefoot into the tiny kitchen. The overhead bulb flickered once before giving in completely. No light. Just the blue hue of streetlamps sneaking in through the window.
She opened the bread bin. One last slice of dry bread stared back at her.
No butter. No tea. Nothing.
She grabbed it anyway and sat at the table, chewing in silence. The bread tasted like paper, stale, rough, and lonely.
Then it hit her.
That sharp, clenching weight in her chest.
Not guilt.
Not grief.
Something worse.
Resentment.
Her hands trembled as they clutched the crust of the bread.
Zianab. Esther.
Her sisters were everything society applauded, brilliant, responsible, loved. One was a respected lawyer with a master's degree. The other a rising star in psychology, funded on scholarship, loved by teachers, admired by peers.
And her?
She was just… Sarah.
The middle child who couldn't even afford her own tuition.
The one who faked a better version of herself just to get a seat at the table.
She blinked hard, pressing her palms against her eyes until fireworks danced behind them. She wanted to scream, but there was no one to hear her.
"I'm not stupid," she whispered to the empty room. "I'm not worthless."
Her voice cracked, barely above the whimper of a forgotten child.
"I wanted more. I still do." Her eyes darkened. "I don't regret it. Any of it."
She stood and stared at her reflection in the glass window, barely lit, blurred by the city lights.
"I want what they have. And I'll take it. All of it. Respect. Power. Name." She said the words slowly, tasting them like forbidden fruit.
"No one cares how hard life is for girls like me. You either shine, or you disappear." Her fists clenched. "I won't disappear."
She turned back into the dark room, her breath slowing.
"I'm not the villain," she whispered to herself. "I'm just surviving the only way I know how."
A tear slipped down her cheek, but she didn't wipe it.
Not this time.
She sat back down, finishing the last of the dry bread like it was a victory meal.
She didn't need comfort.
She needed results.
And if anyone got in the way, even her sisters…
She'd bury the guilt right next to the innocence she left behind.