: This chapter contains psychological tension, coercion, manipulation, and the depiction of human trafficking. Reader discretion is advised.
The Narrow Escape
The concrete walls of the abandoned building loomed over them like silent predators, closing in from every direction. Weak bulbs flickered overhead, suspended by fraying wires, their unsteady glow casting warped shadows that crawled across the room like living things. The air was thick with dust, sweat, and terror.
What had been promised as a glamorous internship—an opportunity to learn refinement, elegance, and modeling—had collapsed into something unrecognizable. Something monstrous.
Adesuwa sat rigid on a thin mat spread across the cold floor, her muscles aching from fear and exhaustion. Around her, nearly thirty girls filled the space. Some whispered frantic prayers under their breath, lips moving soundlessly. Others cried openly, shoulders shaking as tears soaked into their clothes. A few stared ahead, eyes empty, as though their minds had already escaped what their bodies could not.
Several girls still clutched their bags, fingers wrapped tightly around straps and zippers, holding onto them like lifelines. As if those bags could somehow carry them back to the lives they had left behind.
Adesuwa's hand trembled as she pressed the old Nokia phone against her chest. Efe had slipped it into her palm earlier, her touch quick and deliberate, her eyes full of warning. The phone was outdated, scratched, unimpressive—but to Adesuwa, it felt like the most valuable thing she had ever owned.
Her only chance.
Heavy boots scraped against the concrete.
One of the men stepped forward. He wore dark shades despite the dim room, his expression unreadable, his presence suffocating. He scanned the girls slowly, deliberately, like a hunter choosing prey.
"You think you came here to play dress-up?" he said coldly, his voice cutting through the room. "Do exactly what you're told. No questions."
The girl nearest him stiffened, her hands shaking violently.
"Sir… we were told this was an internship," she whispered, her voice cracking under the weight of fear.
The man's jaw tightened.
"Silence."
He lifted his gun—not pointing it directly, but enough for the metallic click to echo through the room.
Time seemed to stop.
Every breath froze. Every heartbeat thundered in Adesuwa's ears.
Fear surged through her like fire, burning her chest, tightening her throat. For a moment, she thought she might scream. Or faint. Or collapse where she sat.
Then Efe's voice surfaced in her mind, calm and steady, cutting through the chaos.
Fear might keep you alive… but awareness will save you.
Adesuwa forced herself to breathe slowly, quietly. She lowered her gaze and began to observe—not just the men, but the space itself. The walls. The corners. The exits. Anything that felt out of place.
Across the room, Chioma's eyes met hers. Fear shimmered there—but beneath it, something else. Hope. Or desperation.
There has to be a way out, Adesuwa thought desperately. There has to be.
The hours that followed blurred into obedience forced by intimidation. The girls were ordered to line up, to move, to respond instantly to every command. Any hesitation earned sharp warnings, shouted threats, or the sound of a gun being cocked.
Men patrolled the room constantly, their eyes always watching, their weapons always visible.
Eventually, a brief bathroom break was granted. The girls were led out in small groups into a dim corridor, guarded closely. As Adesuwa shuffled forward, her eyes darted instinctively, searching without knowing exactly what she was looking for.
Then she saw it.
A loose panel near the far corner of the corridor wall.
It wasn't obvious—just slightly misaligned, a faint gap visible if you looked closely.
Her heart skipped.
This is it.
Her pulse thundered as she leaned toward Chioma and whispered, barely moving her lips, "There's a way."
Chioma's eyes widened in horror. "Are you mad?" she whispered back. "If they catch us—"
"We won't," Adesuwa said, though fear gnawed at her certainty. "We have to try. For our lives."
Night descended slowly, dragging darkness over the building. The guards grew tired. The generator hummed steadily, masking softer sounds. Footsteps became less frequent. Conversations quieter.
Opportunity crept closer.
When the moment finally came, Adesuwa's body moved before her mind could stop it. She slipped toward the corner, every nerve screaming. Her fingers brushed the wall panel.
It shifted.
Just enough.
She held her breath and eased herself through, skin scraping against rough concrete. The space beyond was narrow and suffocating, thick with dust and decay. Her knees burned as she crawled forward, every inch won through pain.
Then a voice echoed faintly behind her.
"Where are you going?"
Adesuwa froze.
Her heart slammed violently against her ribs. Blood roared in her ears. She waited for footsteps. For shouting. For gunfire.
Nothing.
Seconds stretched endlessly.
She moved.
Slowly. Carefully.
Dust filled her lungs, the smell of mold stinging her nose. The crawl space narrowed, scraping her elbows, tearing at her clothes—but she welcomed the pain. Pain meant progress.
Finally, her hand struck open air.
She pushed through.
Moonlight flooded her vision. A narrow alley stretched behind the building, silent and empty. Cool night air crashed into her lungs, sharp and overwhelming. For a heartbeat, she just stood there—dazed, shaking.
Then she heard shouting behind her.
They had noticed.
Adesuwa ran.
She sprinted down the alley and into the forest beyond, branches whipping her face, roots grabbing at her feet. She stumbled, fell, and rose again. Fear transformed into fuel. Adrenaline drowned exhaustion.
Hours later, she collapsed near a shallow river, hidden beneath overhanging branches. Her body shook violently as her chest rose and fell. The lights of the building were gone. Silence surrounded her.
She was alive.
Her fingers tightened around the Nokia.
With trembling hands, she dialed the only number she trusted.
"Babe… you… you made it?" Efe's voice broke through the line, shaking.
"Yes," Adesuwa whispered, tears finally spilling. "But the others—"
"We'll find a way," Efe said firmly. "You survived. Now come home. Come to safety."
By dawn, Adesuwa reached the outskirts of a familiar village. Exhausted, bruised, and hollow, she collapsed into a quiet alley. Her heart slowed at last—but her mind burned.
The lies. The smiles. Madam Grace.
Her phone vibrated.
As she checked the screen, she noticed something she hadn't seen before—a photo saved accidentally during the chaos. In the background of the image, a document lay partially visible. Names. Dates. Locations.
Her own name was there.
Adesuwa's fingers curled into a fist.
I will expose you, she vowed silently. Every single one of you.
---
As Adesuwa zooms in on the file, she realizes the next shipment date is less than a week away—and the girls left behind are already listed as "processed."