The husband flung his wife and children out, but his lover followed them, gave the wife 10 million naira, and whispered in her ear, “Come back in three days… there will be a surprise for you…”
Espiode I.
In Lagos, the rain poured relentlessly that night. Not gentle or poetic—no. It was cold, heavy, the kind that seeps into your skin and makes you feel like you’re being erased from existence.
Adaeze clutched her two children’s hands tightly—Kelechi and Chiamaka—their small fingers wrapped around hers as if she were the only thing keeping their world from falling apart.
Behind her, the door had just slammed shut.
Not softly. Not with hesitation.
But with a force that echoed painfully in her chest.
“You are never coming back here again.”
Those were her husband Chukwudi’s final words.
Ten years of marriage. Two children. Endless nights without sleep, silent sacrifices, dreams she had buried to build a life together.
All of it… gone in a single sentence.
