Lagos
As I step into my childhood bedroom, it feels like time has stood still. Memories flood my mind like an unstoppable, frantic cascade, especially those of the last night I spent here, right before we escaped. I was nineteen, and I can't say I was happy.
"Are you okay?" Ness asks.
I shake my head to focus on the present—here, in this bedroom, with my wife.
She’s been acting strangely since we arrived at the estate. I don’t know her well enough yet, but I know something is off about her. I don’t think I’m imagining it.
"I want to take a shower and get a few hours of sleep before we head back home," I mutter.
I sit on the edge of the bed and start untying my boots.
Ness remains by the door, watching me in silence.
I kick off my shoes and stand up, pulling my shirt over my head.
