The hospital gates slammed behind Chidi as he rushed out, sweat dripping down his temples. His chest heaved, not from running, but from panic. The air felt too thin, his heart too heavy. He scanned the busy junction, calling Ada’s name as if sheer desperation could summon her back.

But Ada was nowhere.

Fear squeezed his chest. Where else could she be? One thought pierced through his clouded mind—the village. Without hesitation, he jumped into his car and drove recklessly down the dusty road that led out of the city.

When he arrived, the stillness of the village pressed down on him like a burden. The streets were quiet, except for the rustling leaves and the distant cry of a rooster. Then he saw Ugochi, Ada’s mother. Her wrapper was tied carelessly, her face lined with exhaustion and worry.

The moment she spotted him, she screamed. “Copper Chidi! Where is my daughter?” Her voice cracked with anguish.

Chidi froze, dread creeping into his bones. “Ada… she’s not here?” His voice faltered, already sensing the truth.

Ugochi staggered forward, her whole body trembling. “You took my daughter away from me! Where did you keep her?” she cried before collapsing to the ground, beating her chest, her wailing carrying through the village like a funeral song.

Her grief pierced Chidi’s ears, searing him with guilt. Humiliated, trapped, and with no answers to give, he turned and fled. Dust rose behind his car as Ugochi’s cries echoed into the distance.

Back in the city, the search grew colder. Sandra, the schemer who had once stood proudly in his mother’s house, was now behind bars. The house that once bustled with false laughter and hidden agendas now stood empty and quiet. Defeated, Chidi found himself in the corner of his bar, drowning his sorrows in bottles until his vision blurred.

Memories rushed in like a storm. He saw Ada’s selfless sacrifices—emptying her mother’s shop to support him, giving him three hundred thousand naira for a contract that never existed, washing his clothes during his service year, bringing him food with her tired hands, walking him home as though she had nothing else in the world but him.

And then, the darkest memory: the night he took her innocence, the tears that fell from her eyes while shame clawed at her heart.

Chidi gripped his chest and wept bitterly.

Suddenly, a thought flickered. Emeka. Perhaps she was with him. He stumbled into Emeka’s compound, but hope dissolved as quickly as it came. Emeka hadn’t seen her. His mind jumped again—Obinna. If Ada was anywhere, maybe it was there.

He sped to the hospital, hope clinging to him like the last ember of a dying fire.

The moment he pushed open the office door, his breath caught. Ada sat quietly beside Obinna, her hands folded on her lap. Peace radiated from her posture, a peace that stung Chidi like a dagger.

“Obinna!” Chidi barked, storming forward. Rage consumed him. His fist crashed into Obinna’s chest, sending him staggering backward.

“Chidi, stop this madness!” Ada cried, rushing between them.

But Chidi grabbed her hand and dragged her out, ignoring Obinna’s shouts behind them.

“Let go of me!” Ada struggled, yanking her hand free.

Chidi’s eyes burned with desperation. “Ada, please. My mother is dying. She needs you. Please don’t say no to me.”

Ada’s eyes flared with hurt and anger. “After everything you did to me, you still have the nerve to show your face?”

Chidi collapsed to his knees, sobbing openly. “Forgive me. I know I don’t deserve it. But my mother… she misses you. She’s changed. Don’t let her die without seeing you.”

Ada turned to Obinna, who stood nearby, his arms crossed, his jaw tight, his silence cutting deeper than words. She whispered, almost to herself, “I will go with you.”

Obinna’s eyes widened. “No, Ada! Not after all they did to you. Don’t do this to me.”

“Stay out of this!” Chidi snapped.

But Ada’s voice was calm. “I don’t want his mother to die.”

And so, against Obinna’s desperate protests, Ada followed Chidi.

At the hospital, Mrs. Collins broke into sobs the moment she saw Ada. She clutched Ada’s hands tightly, her frail body trembling.

“My daughter, forgive me… please forgive me,” she wept.

Ada’s eyes softened. “It’s okay, Mama. I forgive you.”

“You do?” Mrs. Collins gasped, as if the words were too good to believe.

“Yes, Mama. Please stop crying. Get well.”

Mrs. Collins hugged her, relief breaking her down further. “Thank you, my child. Please… come back to us.”

Ada nodded gently. “I will, Mama.”

But peace was fleeting. Chidi, terrified that Obinna might take Ada away again, insisted on escorting her to pack her belongings. They worked quickly, folding clothes into bags, the air heavy with unspoken words.

Just as they stepped out, Obinna walked in.

He froze, his eyes darting from Ada to the bags in her hands. “No… Ada.” His voice trembled. “Please, don’t leave me like this.”

Ada’s eyes glistened with tears. She looked down, ashamed.

Obinna’s voice cracked as he stepped closer. “Remember how I cared for you when no one else did. How I stood beside you when the whole world rejected you. Don’t throw that away. Please.”

Ada’s lips trembled. “Obinna… I’ll never forget. But Chidi’s mother—she needs me.”

Obinna’s voice rose in desperation. “What about me, Ada? Don’t I need you too? I love you with everything in me. Don’t walk away from my life.”

Chidi snapped, grabbing Ada’s wrist. “Enough, Ada. We’re going.”

But Ada pulled free, her eyes blazing with sudden determination.

“No, Chidi. I can’t go with you.”

Chidi stiffened. “What are you saying?”

Ada dropped the bag, stepping toward Obinna. She cupped his face, tears streaming. “Obinna, you loved me when no one else did. You stood by me when the world turned against me. I can’t walk away from you.”

Obinna’s heart pounded. “Are you sure?”

“I’m sure,” she whispered. “This time, I choose you.”

Chidi’s fists clenched, his breathing ragged. “So after everything, you still pick him?”

Ada nodded slowly. “Yes, Chidi. It’s over.”

Obinna pulled her into his arms, holding her as though he would never let go. Chidi stood frozen, then turned and walked away, his shoulders slumped, his heart bleeding with pain and rage.

Meanwhile, Sandra’s world had crumbled.

Behind the iron bars of the women’s prison, she sat on the cold cement floor, a wrapper tied around her chest. The air stank of sweat and damp clothes, her pride now stripped away.

“So after everything I did, this is where I ended up?” she muttered. “Me, Sandra, locked up like a common criminal? And all because of that woman Mrs. Collins.”

An elderly inmate, Mama Nkechi, chuckled. “Na Mrs. Collins put you here? Abeg, no blame anybody. Na your hand work carry you come here.”

“You don’t understand!” Sandra snapped. “That woman ruined me. If not for her, I’d still be enjoying life.”

From the top bunk, Ifeoma shook her head. “Madam, even if she dealt with you, na police carry you come here. Na wetin you do land you here, no be Mrs. Collins.”

Sandra’s jaw tightened. “You people don’t understand. She was jealous of me. She brought me down. She will pay for this.”

Mama Nkechi laughed dryly. “Pride go kill you. Instead of praying, you dey carry bitterness for heart. Revenge no dey buy freedom.”

Sandra curled up on the floor, her eyes burning with tears she refused to shed. Her whisper was sharp as a knife: “I will never forgive her. If I ever get out, Mrs. Collins will pay.”

The iron door slammed shut, sealing the night. Sandra’s anger burned hotter than her fear, a fire that refused to die.