جميع فصول : الفصل -الفصل 20

Jane stood rooted to the spot with shallow breathing as she stared at the mountain of refuse before her, refusing to accept what her eyes were seeing. She shook her head slowly, whispering, “no… this isn’t right,” as she searched left and right in a slow circle for the gates, the driveway, and the mansion that had seemed so real only minutes earlier.Her breathing became uneven as she stumbled toward the refuse dump, ignoring the foul stench and the flies swarming around her face. Onlookers stopped to watch as she dropped to her knees and began throwing bags of rubbish aside with both hands, screaming, “move! move! you’re covering it, it’s here, i know it’s here.”Digging through broken bottles, spoiled food, torn clothing, rusted metal, and shattered plastic, she barely noticed the sharp edges slicing into her bleeding fingers or the dirt working its way beneath her nails.“where is my husband, where is my husband, my handsome husband, my rich husband, have you seen my husband, did y

The day before the party, Amara ran into Sandra right out in the hostel corridor.Sandra stopped, looking her up and down. "Amara? Are you ready for tomorrow? Do you need anything? Do you want me to lend you anything for the party?"Amara shook her head, smiling hard. "No, I'm fine. I sorted myself out."Sandra narrowed her eyes, stepping closer. "Abeg, don't go and wear rubbish shoes o. Don't go there and embarrass me.""Don't worry," Amara said, her chest tight with nervous excitement. "I will make you proud. You'll see."Sandra let out a short breath, her expression softening into a serious mentorship mode. "See, when you reach that place tomorrow, act like a posh girl. Don't act like somebody who has never stepped foot inside a party before. When you get in, you sit down, cross your legs like a proper lady. Do you even know how to hold a champagne glass?"Amara blinked. "No...""I knew it." Sandra spun around, unlocked her door, and dashed into her room. She came back out holding

The ballroom was brighter than Amara had imagined, with crystal chandeliers stretching across the high ceiling like frozen waterfalls, reflecting thousands of tiny lights onto the polished marble floor while soft jazz drifted through the room and waiters moved effortlessly between guests carrying champagne and expensive wine. Everything looked perfect, and everything looked expensive. For the first thirty minutes, Amara stayed close to Sandra and the other girls, laughing, taking pictures, and whispering excitedly whenever another celebrity or politician entered the hall. Every few minutes someone would gasp—*that’s him, look over there, oh my god.* The room was filled with powerful people: businessmen, politicians, actors, oil executives, and people whose names appeared on television almost every week. Amara smiled whenever Sandra looked at her, but inside, disappointment slowly began creeping in. Nobody noticed them, and nobody even looked in their direction. She watched beautiful

The elevator doors slid open without a single sound.A private lobby waited inside, quiet and expensive. Soft music played somewhere out of sight, and the thick cream carpet swallowed the sound of their shoes. Crystal lamps cast a warm, golden glow across polished walls.Only two people sat behind a long marble front desk. The moment they spotted him, both workers straightened up immediately.“Good evening, sir.”Their smiles looked smooth and well-practiced. He simply gave them a small, quiet nod. Without asking for his name, his ID, or any kind of payment, one of the workers reached down and picked up a room key card from the hidden shelf behind the desk, holding it ready.“Everything is prepared for you, sir.”“Thank you.”Amara watched the whole thing with quiet wonder. No paperwork. No questions asked. It was like he owned the place, or like someone had cleared the path long before they even arrived.As they stepped out of the elevator and began walking down the wide hallway, she

Amara sat on the edge of the sofa, the white handkerchief still clutched in her hands. Her tears had stopped, but wet tracks stayed on her cheeks. Every breath felt heavy, as if the weight she carried for months finally caught up with her.The room grew quiet.He didn’t pressure her.He didn’t move closer or try to touch her.Instead, he walked to the minibar, poured a glass of water, and brought it over.“here,” he said.She took it with shaky hands.“thank you.”He smiled a little.“you’ve had a long day.”She nodded.“i don’t even know why i cried like that.”“sometimes the heart gets too heavy,” he said softly, “when it can’t carry everything alone, it finds another way out.”His answer caught her off guard. Most people would have laughed. Or judged her. Or told her to stop crying. He did none of those things. He just listened.She took another sip of water.For a second, an uncomfortable thought crossed her mind. A man like this. A room like this. Whatever else he was, he had the