The sky over New York had that pale gray shade that always hinted at a long day ahead. Sarah stood outside the secured wing of her estate as the convoy eased in, escorting the Nnadede family with the kind of discretion she reserved only for high-risk cases.
Four guards flanked them, two assigned specifically to stay within reach of the family at all times. Two more stationed near the apartment entrance, scanning every passing shadow.
Mr. Ifeanyi stepped out first, his movements cautious, as though expecting danger to leap out from behind the perfectly trimmed hedges. His daughter, Nkem, followed silently, her fingers loosely clutching her small travel bag.
The lines under her eyes revealed a night without sleep. Trauma had a way of settling permanently in the body, refusing to be forg
