The wheels of the plane touched the Abuja runway with a soft thud, and Sarah exhaled slowly, steadying her thoughts.
Ella sat beside her, clutching her handbag tightly, her eyes fixed on the window. Neither of them spoke for the first few minutes—they were too aware of the gravity of what they’d flown into.
This wasn’t a business trip.
It was a hunt for truth.
A hunt for justice.
A hunt for the one thing that could finally bring down Lord Benedict Augustine.
By the time they made it through immigration and stepped into the humid Abuja air, the sun was already harsh overhead, the heat wrapping around them like a heavy blanket.
Their informant—an elderly man named Musa—had sent a message earlier confirming the road to his community was clear.
But Nigeria had changed.
And even clea
