THIRTY-ONE YEARS EARLIER
The rain had stopped, but Lagos had not gone to sleep.
Along Herbert Macaulay Way, tyres hissed through the wet road.
A danfo conductor leaned halfway out of his bus, shouting for passengers heading towards Yaba.
From a roadside beer parlour, Fuji music spilt into the damp night, rising and falling above the cough of generators.
It was an ordinary Lagos night.
Except inside an old warehouse in Yaba, nothing was ordinary.
Simi Adebayo stood beside a wooden table, staring at a document beneath the harsh light of a flickering fluorescent tube.
She read the last page again.
Then she looked up at Samuel.
“You moved the money.”
Samuel Adebayo shook his head.
“I didn’t move it, Simi. I found out where it went.”
She stared at him.
“Then why didn’t you tell me?”
“I was trying to find out who was behind it.”
“And you thought keeping me in the dark was the best way?”
Samuel glanced towards the people in the room.
“No. I thought keeping you alive was.”
The words silenced her.
Several other people were inside the warehouse.
Tunde stood near the door, his arms folded across his chest.
He had been part of the property discussions from the beginning, representing the family in the agreement.
He had spoken little that night.
Bolanle, Simi’s younger sister, sat nearby with the baby.
Simi had almost refused to attend the meeting because of the child.
She was only a few months old, and Simi had wanted to leave her at home.
But the meeting had been described as urgent.
So Bolanle had offered to come along.
“I’ll stay with her,” she had told Simi earlier.
“Just for a little while.”
That little while had become almost two hours.
Bolanle had remained in the adjoining room with the baby, trying to keep her quiet while the adults argued over documents and money.
Another man remained near the far wall.
Simi didn’t know him well enough to trust him.
She returned her attention to Samuel.
“You said the money was for the property transaction.”
“It was supposed to be.”
“Supposed to be?”
Samuel nodded.
“Someone diverted part of it through another account.”
“Whose account?”
“I don’t know yet.”
Simi’s expression hardened.
“You don’t know?”
“I know the company involved.”
“Which one?”
Samuel hesitated.
“Ademola Holdings.”
The name hung between them.
Simi looked down at the papers.
“Then we take this to the authorities.”
Tunde finally spoke.
“Ẹ jọ̀ọ́.”
Please.
Simi looked at him.
“Take what to the authorities?”
“The documents.”
“Why?”
Tunde’s eyes moved towards the door.
“Because not every matter is solved by shouting the truth in the marketplace.”
Simi frowned.
“And hiding it solves it?”
Tunde sighed.
“Sometimes, ọmọ mi, truth needs protection before it can survive.”
Simi was about to answer when Samuel spoke.
“She has made copies.”
Tunde looked sharply at him.
Simi reached into her handbag and brought out a brown envelope.
“I made copies because I don’t trust anyone here.”
The room became very still.
Samuel’s voice dropped.
“Give them to me.”
“No.”
“Simi.”
“No.”
She held the envelope tightly.
“If these papers prove what you say, they stay with me.”
Samuel took one step towards her.
“You don’t understand what you’re holding.”
“You don’t understand what you’re holding.”
“I understand that somebody has been lying.”
“And I understand that somebody will kill to keep those papers from leaving this building.”
A faint cry came from the adjoining room.
Simi froze.
Her eyes immediately moved towards the sound.
The baby cried again.
She started towards the inner room.
Samuel caught her arm.
“Wait.”
She pulled away.
“That’s my child.”
Samuel released her.
Simi disappeared into the adjoining room.
Tunde watched her go.
His face had changed.
Samuel noticed.
“What?”
Tunde shook his head.
“Nothing.”
Samuel stared at him.
“You know something.”
“I know enough to be afraid.”
Simi returned carrying the baby.
Bolanle followed behind her.
“She wouldn’t stop crying,” Bolanle said quietly.
Simi took the baby into her arms.
“Thank you.”
Bolanle looked at Samuel.
Then at the papers.
Something in her expression suggested she understood that the meeting had gone far beyond business.
Simi rocked the baby gently.
“Ẹ má bẹ̀rù, ọmọ mi.”
Don’t be afraid, my child.
Samuel looked at the baby.
Then at Simi.
“You have to listen to me.”
“I’ve been listening all night.”
“If they discover who she is—”
Simi stopped rocking.
“Who she is?”
Samuel said nothing.
Her eyes narrowed.
“Samuel.”
He lowered his voice.
“Her identity is recorded in documents connected to the agreement.”
Simi stared at him.
“What?”
“The original records contain information that can identify her.”
Tunde closed his eyes.
Mrs.
Akinwale, who had been sitting quietly near the filing cabinet, looked down.
Simi understood the danger immediately.
“They can use her?”
“They can use her existence to prove what happened.”
Her arms tightened around the baby.
“No.”
Samuel stepped closer.
“That’s why her identity must disappear.”
Simi shook her head.
“You’re asking me to erase my own child.”
“I’m asking you to keep her alive.”
Outside, a vehicle slowed.
Its headlights swept across the warehouse windows.
Tunde moved towards the curtain.
He looked outside.
Then he turned.
“They’re here.”
Nobody asked who.
The answer was already written on their faces.
Simi clutched the brown envelope.
“What do we do?”
Samuel looked at Tunde.
Tunde pointed towards the rear of the building.
“There is an old storage room beneath the main floor.”
Simi stared at him.
“What?”
“A small underground room. Nobody uses it anymore.”
Samuel understood.
“The papers.”
Tunde nodded.
“Hide them there.”
Simi looked at the envelope.
Samuel took it from her.
“If we survive tonight, you will know where to find them.”
“If?”
Samuel looked at her.
“I don’t know what happens next.”
The front gate slammed.
Voices rose outside.
Someone shouted.
Then came the sound of hurried footsteps.
Bolanle moved closer to Simi.
“What is happening?”
Simi looked at her sister.
Her voice trembled.
“You need to take the baby.”
Bolanle stared at her.
“What?”
“Take her.”
“Simi, where are you going?”
“I don’t know.”
“Then I’m not leaving you.”
Simi gripped her sister’s arm.
“Bolanle, listen to me.”
There was something in her voice that made Bolanle stop arguing.
“If anything happens to me, you take care of her.”
Bolanle’s eyes widened.
“Don’t talk like that.”
“Promise me.”
“Simi—”
“Bolanle.”
Her sister looked at the baby.
Then back at Simi.
“I promise.”
The words had barely left her mouth when the warehouse door shook.
Tunde shouted:
“They are inside the compound!”
Samuel turned towards the sound.
“Go!”
Simi kissed the baby’s forehead.
Then she placed the child carefully into Bolanle’s arms.
“Keep her safe.”
Bolanle’s eyes filled with tears.
“I will.”
Simi touched her sister’s cheek.
“Whatever they tell you, don’t give her to anybody.”
Another crash came from the front.
Tunde pointed towards the rear passage.
“Now!”
Bolanle disappeared through the passage with the baby.
Simi turned back towards Samuel.
He caught her hand.
“If they find you, don’t tell them about the child.”
“She is my daughter.”
“I know.”
“Then come with us.”
Samuel’s eyes held hers.
“I will try.”
The words frightened her more than anything else he had said that night.
Simi whispered:
“Samuel…”
He touched her cheek.
“I love you.”
A loud crash came from outside.
Tunde shouted:
“They are inside!”
Samuel turned towards the sound.
“Go!”
Simi ran after her sister.
For one moment, she looked back.
Samuel stood beneath the flickering fluorescent light.
Then the darkness swallowed him.
Thirty-one years would pass.
The people who knew what happened that night would grow older.
Some would die.
Some would remain silent.
The property would change hands.
Ademola Holdings would disappear.
But the evidence would remain.
So would the child.
Her name was Temilade.
She would grow up believing she knew where she came from.
She didn’t.
And in 2026, the past would begin looking for her.