LAGOS LOVE, VILLAGE LIES.

BACK TO THE VILLAGE.

I didn’t sleep that night.

The message kept replaying in my head like a curse. Leave Daniel alone. As if loving him was something I planned. As if my heart had asked permission.

By morning, I had made up my mind.

I needed to leave Lagos.

I called in sick and packed a small bag. The bus ride to my village felt longer than usual. Every bump on the road pulled memories out of me—Daniel’s smile, his touch, the lies hiding behind his calm eyes.

When I arrived, Mama knew immediately that something was wrong.

That night, after dinner, she asked me to sit beside her.

“Amara,” she said gently, “what is troubling you?”

I broke down. I told her everything—Lagos, Daniel, the wife, the threat.

Mama was quiet for a long time.

Then she sighed and held my hands.

“There is something I should have told you long ago,” she said.

My heart skipped.

“You are not my biological daughter.”

The room spun.

“What… what do you mean?” I whispered.

Mama’s eyes filled with tears. “You were adopted.”

My breath caught.

“And the people who gave birth to you,” she added slowly, “they are in Lagos.”