CHAPTER 50
The morning light filtered through the thin curtains, casting pale stripes across the worn wooden floor of Lana’s safe house. The air was heavy with the scent of damp earth and stale coffee. Outside, the city stirred awake, but inside, time seemed to hold its breath.
I sat at the small kitchen table, the stack of files spread out before me like a puzzle waiting to be solved. Lana stood by the window, eyes sharp, scanning every detail I recounted from last night’s narrow escape.
“We’re close, Uche,” she said, tapping a page that listed names tied to Evan Douglas’s network. “This isn’t just local corruption. It’s deep. Dangerous.”
I nodded, my fingers tracing the edges of a crumpled photo—a woman who had disappeared months ago. “If we don’t expose this, more people will vanish
