Ife had never been the type to sit still when something didn't make sense.
That morning, she replayed Arden's words again and again while brushing her teeth, while tying her hair, while walking down the street. It's for your own good. People only said that when they were scared—or guilty.
She didn't believe Arden was dangerous.
But she believed he was hiding.
Instead of calling him like she usually would, Ife did something else. She went to the café.
The barista, a friendly woman who remembered faces easily, smiled when she saw her. "Your friend didn't come today?"
"No," Ife said casually. "He's busy."
The woman nodded, then leaned in a little. "Those men from before were here again yesterday."
Ife's hand stilled. "Which men?"
"The quiet ones. Always sitting in the corner. They ask questions but don't buy much."
A chill crept up her spine.
Across the city, Arden was making his own mistakes.
He'd decided—against better judgment—that staying indoors made him predictable. So he went out. Changed routes. Avoided familiar places.
Still, the feeling followed him.
He ducked into a small electronics shop to buy a cheap phone. The shopkeeper chatted cheerfully, but Arden's eyes kept drifting to the reflection in the glass.
Two men stood outside.
Waiting.
When Arden stepped back onto the street, they moved too.
He turned sharply into a narrow alley. The footsteps followed. Faster now.
His pulse thundered.
Then—
"ARDEN!"
He froze.
Ife stood at the mouth of the alley, hands on her hips, looking furious.
"What are you doing hiding like a criminal?" she demanded.
The footsteps stopped.
The men disappeared.
Arden's breath came out shaky.
"Ife—this isn't—"
She grabbed his arm and pulled him back onto the main road. "Are you trying to get yourself killed? People don't disappear in Lagos quietly."
He stared at her, stunned. "You shouldn't be here."
She scoffed. "You don't get to say that anymore."
They walked in silence for a while.
Then Ife spoke. "Someone's watching you."
He stopped. "You noticed."
"I'm not blind," she said. "And neither are my instincts."
Arden exhaled slowly. The weight of it all pressed down on him. "I didn't want you involved."
"I'm already involved," she said. "Whether you like it or not."
She softened then. Just slightly. "You don't have to tell me everything. But don't lie to me by omission."
He looked at her, really looked at her, and realized something terrifying.
She was braver than he was.
"There are people who want to hurt me," he said finally. "Because of my father."
Her eyes didn't widen. She didn't gasp.
She nodded. "That makes sense."
He blinked. "That's it?"
"I grew up here," she said dryly. "Power attracts enemies. It's not new."
He hesitated. "They might use you to get to me."
Her jaw tightened. "Then you don't get to decide I'm weak."
Later that evening, they sat with Zainab, Tola, and Simi—who immediately sensed the shift.
"Ohhh," Zainab said slowly. "You fought."
"We did not," Ife said.
"You definitely did," Tola added. "Your energy is chaotic."
Simi studied Arden. "You finally told her something."
"Enough," Arden replied.
Simi nodded. "Good. Secrets rot when they're sealed."
Zainab clapped her hands. "Okay! Enough gloom. We're eating. Trauma is easier to digest with food."
Despite himself, Arden laughed.
For a moment, things felt almost normal.
Almost.
That night, Arden walked Ife home.
At her gate, she hesitated. "You don't have to do this."
"I want to," he said.
She searched his face. "I don't need protecting. I need partnership."
He nodded. "Then I'll try to do that instead."
She smiled softly.
As she turned to go inside, a car slowed across the street.
Headlights flared.
Arden stepped forward instinctively.
The window rolled down just enough.
A familiar voice spoke calmly. "She's important to you."
Arden's blood went cold.
"Yes," he said evenly.
"Then be careful," the man replied. "Lagos has a way of taking what you love."
The car drove off.
Ife turned back. "What happened?"
Arden forced a smile. "Nothing."
She didn't believe him.
Neither did he.