She reviewed everything.
Patterns.
Timelines.
Every coincidence started to feel like choreography.
Zion had her deleted draft.
Lanre knew what she said in private.
She listed everything. Names. Times. Words.
It didn’t feel like paranoia.
It felt like math.
At 2:17 AM she texted:
Why did you tell him what I said?
Read.
No reply.
She threw the phone.
They’re doing this. Together.
Tobi could almost see it: late-night messages, exchanging screenshots, plotting how to get under her skin.
Maybe it started as a joke. A test.
But now?
She felt hunted.
Morning. Tobi headed to class. Early again. Same seat.
She didn’t speak. She didn’t look up.
She opened her bag—and paused.
There it was.
Folded paper.
Same size. Same crease.
But this time—
Something’s wrong with the ink. It’s smudged.
Like the hand that wrote it shook too hard.
The writing is jagged. Panicked.
They want you to snap. Don’t.
She read it again.
Then again.
This one wasn’t like the others.
If Zion and Lanre are behind this…
Why warn you?
This one… didn’t sound like them.
Which meant someone else was in the game.
Comments (0)
See all