Episode 9 | Collateral Innocence
820 Words
That afternoon, Agnes called for Abimbola.
“I need your daughter to assist Ada for a few days,” she said casually. “Personal errands. Very sensitive ones.”
Abimbola hesitated. “Madam, Ibukun has school—”
Agnes lifted one perfectly shaped eyebrow.
“Are you refusing?”
Abimbola swallowed. “No, madam.”
“Good. You’ve been loyal to this family,” Agnes added, her tone softening. “It would be unfortunate if misunderstandings about missing jewelry spread further.”
Abimbola’s shoulders slumped.
“I understand,” she said quietly.
Ibukun learned of the arrangement that evening.
“You will stay in the guest room upstairs,” Ada said briskly, scrolling through her phone. “Be on call day and night.”
“Yes, madam.”
Ada glanced at her then, something curious flickering in her eyes.
“You’re a virgin, right?”
Ibukun stiffened. “Yes, madam.”
Ada smiled thinly. “Perfect.”
Ibukun did not smile back.
That night, Ibukun lay awake on the plush bed in the guest room, staring at the unfamiliar ceiling. Everything smelled expensive—linen, perfume, polish. Her phone vibrated with a message from her sister.
Are you okay?
She typed back quickly.
Yes. Just working.
She did not know how to explain the knot tightening in her chest.
The next day, Agnes visited a private clinic on Victoria Island.
The doctor was discreet. Money always ensured discretion.
“I need a medical report,” Agnes said calmly. “Female. Confirming virginity.”
The doctor hesitated. “Without examination?”
Agnes placed an envelope on the desk.
“I trust your professionalism.”
The envelope disappeared into a drawer.
“It will be ready tomorrow,” the doctor said.
By evening, Agnes held the report in her hands.
Stamped. Signed. Official.
She smiled.
The first piece was in place.
What remained was the most dangerous part—the delivery.
Bright received a call later that night.
Ada’s voice was soft, almost fragile.
“I understand now,” she said. “I want to do things your way.”
Bright exhaled slowly. “Then we proceed properly.”
“I’ll come see you soon,” Ada added. “I want you to meet someone.”
Bright frowned. “Who?”
Ada smiled to herself.
“Someone who will help you believe.”
Bright felt a strange chill.
But he ignored it.
Ibukun sensed it before anyone said a word.
The house felt different that morning—too quiet, too deliberate. The kind of silence that meant decisions had already been made without her knowledge.
She finished arranging the breakfast table and turned to leave when Agnes spoke.
“Ibukun, sit.”
Ibukun hesitated, then lowered herself carefully onto the edge of the sofa, hands clasped tightly in her lap.
Agnes studied her for a long moment, her expression unreadable.
“You know we’ve always treated your family well,” Agnes began. “Paid school fees. Medical bills. Employment.”
“Yes, ma,” Ibukun replied softly.
“And loyalty matters to me,” Agnes continued. “More than anything.”
Ibukun nodded.
“I have a problem,” Agnes said. “A very serious one. And you are the solution.”
Ibukun’s heart began to pound.
“I don’t understand, ma.”
Agnes leaned forward. “My daughter intends to marry a powerful man. He demands proof of purity.”
Ibukun’s breath caught.
“And you,” Agnes said calmly, “will help us provide it.”
Ibukun’s world tilted.
“No, ma,” she whispered. “Please.”
Agnes’s voice hardened. “You will listen.”
She stood and paced slowly.
“You will go to Bright Umeh’s house tonight,” Agnes said. “You will present yourself as a helper—nothing more. You will do what is expected of you.”
Ibukun shook her head violently. “I can’t. I won’t.”
Agnes stopped in front of her.
“Then your mother will be arrested for theft by morning.”
Ibukun froze.
“I have witnesses,” Agnes added coolly. “And the police listen to people like me.”
Tears streamed down Ibukun’s face.
“Please,” she begged. “I’ve done nothing wrong.”
Agnes sighed. “Neither have you. Yet here we are.”
Ibukun spent the rest of the day in a fog.
She did not eat. Did not speak.
She knelt beside her bed and prayed until her throat burned.
But heaven was silent.
That evening, Ada handed her a dress.
“Wear this.”
Ibukun stared at it—simple, elegant, unfamiliar.
“I don’t want this,” Ibukun said quietly.
Ada shrugged. “Neither did I want to be embarrassed.”
Ibukun looked up at her, eyes red. “You’re doing this to me?”
Ada’s lips tightened. “I’m saving my future.”
(To be continued to the next episode)
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