Semua Bab Double cross: Bab 11 - Bab 20

When they reached the school gate, the entire entrance was blocked. Students stood outside murmuring in confusion.“Nobody is entering,” Bella said under her breath. “The questioning has started.”“Yes, Bella… it has started,” Mariam replied. “I honestly hope the truth about Amaka’s death comes out, because the way it happened was too fishy.”The police were calling students one by one, asking where they were, what they were doing on the day Amaka died, and who had been closest to her.Then it was Kingsley’s turn.“Where were you when your girlfriend disappeared?” the inspector asked.Kingsley swallowed. “I… I was with Mrs. Ajayi.”Some classmates nodded. “Yes, sir. Mrs. Ajayi called him out of class that day.”The inspector ordered for Mrs. Ajayi to come forward.“Where were you on the day Miss Amaka died?” he asked.Mrs. Ajayi’s hands trembled slightly. “I… I was with Kingsley. I was cautioning him.”“Where?” the inspector pressed. “In your staff room?”“It was in the staff room, ye

The classroom was tense the moment Mr. Smith stepped in. He carried the exam papers like a weapon, his eyes scanning the room with the cold precision of a hunter.“Pass the papers quickly. First row, to the second. Move,” he barked. “And you,” he snapped at the boy near the window, “keep looking outside and I’ll send you out.”Chairs scraped. Books slammed shut. A stifling silence settled over the room.“Listen carefully,” Mr. Smith continued, his voice razor-sharp. “If I see anyone talking, you’ll stand for five minutes. If you brought anything that will implicate you, bring it out now. And if I catch you, you will repeat SS1—even if you pass your second term. I don’t pity students. Be guided.”A chorus of anxious voices muttered, “Yes, sir.”The exam began. Mr. Smith leaned back, eyes sharp, watching every movement, waiting for the slightest breach. Inside, the room was a tension-filled cage. Some students chewed pens nervously; others scribbled furiously.Bella and Mariam stared at

Saturday MorningSaturday morning arrived bright and unapologetic. Sunlight poured through Bella’s window, landing directly on her face, as if the sun itself had leaned close to whisper, Wake up. It’s time.From somewhere in the house came the familiar, comforting aroma of beans and fried plantain—the kind of smell that announced morning in most Nigerian homes. It wrapped itself around the air, warm and inviting.Today was Saturday.A day for plans.A day for beauty.A day for opportunity.Bella finally stirred, stretching before sitting upright. Today mattered. She would be meeting classy, wealthy people—people who belonged to a world she was determined to enter. Appearances had to be perfect.She slipped out of bed and went straight to Mariam’s room. Mariam was already awake.“Mariam,” Bella called softly. “Have you finally picked a dress?”“Yes,” Mariam replied. “I have.”Bella smiled faintly. “Good. Did you call Samuel to pick us up?”Mariam hesitated. “Ah, Bella, you know Samuel

Sunday finally came.Mariam felt happy and sad at the same time, emotions tangled so tightly she couldn’t separate them. Happy—because she was finally leaving this house. Sad—because of everything she was leaving behind.I rejected Samuel’s kiss because of Bella, she thought bitterly. Why am I even scared of her?She scoffed to herself.I can’t wait to leave this house. Let me just go and have my boyfriend to myself.A small smile tugged at her lips.God bless my aunty, she thought suddenly. Even though I hated her at first.Her aunt had always drained her mother with endless problems, and Mariam had resented her for it. But now, that same sickness had become her escape route. Her parents were stuck away with their new jobs, unable to return anytime soon.I’m finally free.Then the thought startled her.Ah, Mariam, why would you even wish your aunty sickness to last long? That’s not fair.She paused—then shrugged internally.I don’t mind. After all, she always finishes my mum’s money.

As Mrs. Ajayi took her final step out of the classroom, the room erupted.Chairs scraped loudly against the floor. Laughter burst out in relief. Bags were flung over shoulders. The holidays were finally here.Everyone rejoiced—everyone except Fusayo.He sat still, his fingers clenched tightly around his desk, his thoughts tangled and restless. What he had seen earlier refused to leave his mind. He had tried to dismiss it, to tell himself he was mistaken. Yet the image lingered, sharp and troubling.A teacher… during prayer?His chest tightened. No. Something isn’t right.He exhaled slowly, forcing himself back into his role. Clearing his throat, he stood.“Hi, everyone.”“Hi, class rep,” the students chorused.“As we all know, our exams have finally come to an end,” Fusayo began. “Please make sure you enjoy your holidays and get enough rest to prepare for next term. We don’t know what awaits us when second term begins.”The room grew quieter.“I also want us to remember our dear class