REPLICA: CRAZY VS SMART

Yes, it started with pain

Two hefty security officers abruptly threw a young lady out of a hotel. They shut the gate in her face. Her lower lip pulled out in surprise and anger at how the security guards had just treated her, but no words came out. In annoyance, Grace flinched her fist and walked away. Unable to fight or cause more trouble scene.

After a minute of walking, she stood in the gathering rain with her credentials on Santa Maria Street, New G.R.A, Jabi Abuja. Unaware of the drizzle, Grace thought about how to get home, but she knew it would take only the help of God since it was her first time at Jabi. Grace just had to move.

She had to.

The situation reminded her of how tough her life had been. Living in an orphanage at Port Harcourt, moving to Lagos to hustle to complete her secondary school, and now finding a reliable job in Abuja. It was unbelievable that Grace had lived half of her life on the streets, and she was still yet to achieve success, unlike her mates who were young graduates, having wealthy husbands and living good lives.

"Every disappointment is a blessing. God will help me." Grace recited to herself repeatedly, with tears forming in her stormy eyes. She sniffled under the dancing trees. A heavy wind blew through. One would think she was crying from the effects of the wind. Maybe the dust had pierced her eyes, but that wasn't the case.

Studying the area, people locked the gates and doors to the major hotels, classic companies, and shopping malls around. There was nowhere for Grace to hide, so she trekked through the path. Her right arm wrapped around the other as she searched for safety.

The passing vehicles splashed mud on her repeatedly. Grace didn't care, though, she hid under a particular tree. Too bad, she dressed in a white knee-length mini-dress and 3-inch-silver heels. Although, it was all borrowed from a friend; it fitted her well. Grace grabbed the dripping wig off her head and it left her natural hair bare and open. Taking off the dripping wig was refreshing, indeed.

It was quite dark and raining. Thunderstruck against the wall of cloud, rumbled flashes that shook the earth in a quake. Beads of rain lashed the screen of a black, moving car. The ever-active wipers wagged it away, yet Micheal Balogun, a charming young man in his late thirties, drove in the direction of his home. It was already evening, some minutes to 6:00 p.m., but it looked like it was past 10:00 p.m. Because of the intense atmosphere. It was the last day of September, in the year 2024.

The usually busy road was now empty. His car windows were canopy-locked. Michael visited an old school friend in a hotel in Gaube and, somehow, he passed through Jabi. These are developing cities in Abuja. Glancing out the window, Micheal carefully watched the rain wash down the transparent glass, leaving it evaporated and blurred. It was beautiful, though. All he wanted was to get home, have a shower, and complete the project he was working on. Micheal was the busy type who only had time to himself.

Suddenly, his eyes caught a lady standing alone. It was Grace. On her was a white-cotton gown, all soaked and stained with dirt. Her natural hair dripped and the brown envelope she held over her head had torn due to her firm clench. Grace was all drenched and soggy. Micheal halted his car in a flash and revised to where she stood, shivering.

He watched her through his side window, and she placed both hands together, pleading for help.

With this, Micheal winds down his window.

"Please sir, can you give me a lift? I'll stop by the junction, sir. Anywhere to get a taxi home."

"Come in." He signaled, winding up the car windows.

Grace, scared of splitting water in his car, gently walked to the other side and climbed in. Once she closed the door, Micheal locked it and zoomed on.

"Do you live around here?" He asked in a great tone, with his eyes on the road. Micheal wasn't the type that spied on anyone's business. Even if it was family. Regret flashed through him as he wondered why he asked.

"No, I came to submit my credentials and apply for the vacancy I read in the newspaper just yesterday but..."

"But what?" He shot a glance at her, still focused on the driving.

"A worker said they've gotten someone for the secretarial position. I was hoping to meet the manager of Honeywell Enterprise, but it was past their closing time. The securities asked me out. I didn't want to leave because coming here today cost me a fortune."

"Oh, sorry," Micheal muttered in a rather flat tone.

Absentminded to all her explanations. Upon seeing his reply, Grace finally raised her face to the stranger and saw he had Bluetooth fixed to his ears. He nodded somehow as if appreciating the music. It was then she realized that his attention was diverted.

Grace looked away and checked on her phone. It was an old Motorola phone she bought two years ago after saving up money from working five different-collar jobs in Lagos. It was old and gold because it still functioned. Pressing the on button, the phone suddenly turned off. It was then a thought came to Grace that the rain must have an impact. She took out its battery, cleaned it, and fixed it back before turning on the phone. There was an awkward silence in the moving vehicle, but Micheal was absentminded to these.

It was 6:05 p.m.

As a long-drawn sigh loudly escaped her breath, Grace learned that she had once again fallen into one of her numerous thinking routines. She had been slipping into them more often these past weeks.

'When will I get out of these?' Grace sighed as a teardrop trickled down her cheek.

The thought of how the hotel manager ordered her out of his office played in her mind. She wiped it away with her pinky and mentally consoled herself. 'Those idiots humiliated me today again? Better days will come. And all of this will be a story.' Grace pondered.

The rain ebbed some more, and the sky turned ink-black.

Just then, they met three police officers who stopped the car. The men placed two logs of wood to block the road so drivers wouldn't pass the checkpoint.

"Show me your particulars." A police officer inquired. He was a lanky middle-aged man with scattered teeth.

With a raised brow, Micheal deepened his hand to the side of his car and handed the driving license to the police officer. 'One would think these policemen are diligent. Who on earth stops cars in the rain?' Micheal mentally hissed and searched for his vehicle papers and identification card sluggishly. Then he handed it over.

"Okay... You too be senior man, abi?" the police officer nodded negatively at Micheal, going through his papers with wet hands.

Micheal gave him a bombastic side-eye because his breath ricked from alcohol.

"What does that mean?" Michael questioned, already pestered as to why he was being delayed. "Can I go now? Clear the way, please."

"Oga, get out abeg!" the policeman ordered. The other policeman came to meet him and he watched the both of them with curious eyes.

The first policeman then brought out a gun and pointed it at them.

"What?" Grace gasped, holding onto her chest with shivering hands.

"Are you serious? Who the heck are you guys?" Micheal fired, sure that they weren't actual police officers.

"Ear dey pain una abi wetin?" The police officer glared at them, his anger palpable.

"You wan dey yan? Commot before I blow up that your chicken brain!" the first policeman threatened. "See dis one o!" His gun pointed towards them. It didn't move Micheal. It was, perhaps, as fake as their identities.

Looking at the side of their pocket, Micheal realized that they held no names. It was then, he realized that the rain wasn't so heavy. It just drizzled.

"Raise up your hand and fall on your knees!" he commanded. "Now!"

In the dimly lit night, the piercing headlights illuminated the desolate road ahead, casting long shadows on either side. Grace and Micheal climbed down at once. They left their car doors open and their hands hung up in the hair as if giving praises to the lord.

"Please, sir, don't harm us!" Grace robbed her palms together, pleading with them for mercy.

"Please, sir, don't harm us," he mimicked and the other two Police officers chuckled out in laughter. "See this ajebo o! Put your hand for your head abeg! No be you I want," he pointed out. "Na Micheal, we wan give extra lesson."

"Extra lesson? What do you mean?" Micheal's eyes flashed as he heard his name from the police officers.

"Fall on your knees, Broz!" One with a burning cigarette between his fingers kicked Micheal at his knee and he fell to the ground. "See em eyes! The idiot just dey ask question. E no know say, e don enter bege!"

"Micheal."

The second officer placed his hand on Grace's head. Raising her from her kneeling position. Her body shivered at his touch. This was the least expected. Her racing heart prayed for God's interference, but nothing came. No one came. His dry, short fingers slid down her face and grabbed her by the jaw.

"E be like say this your barney like you. See how she is fine." He smiled at his joke. Then crackled in a wicked laugh.

Others joined him except for Grace and Micheal. The hanging tears in Grace's eyes rolled. She met them a while ago, but she hated them with blazing rage in her heart. She just chewed on her jaw and gulped down her tears in agony.

He suddenly stopped, and brought out a gun from the back of his pocket.

"Collect." He forcefully opened her palm and placed it in it. "Shoot am."

Grace and Micheal stood together, their eyes filled with determination and fear. Panic briefly fluttered within Micheal, but determination took over as he assessed the situation. With cautious movements, he unfasten his seatbelt and gingerly step out into the chilly night. The police officers glared at them, his anger palpable.

"You hear me or dey play deaf and dump? I say shoot am!"

"Um..." Grace tried to hold grip of herself, but just couldn't. It was the first time of held an actual gun. A volume of breeze blew towards them making Grace shiver even more. The thought of being a murderer scared her. "Sir... I can't!"

Someone from the back hurried and threw a hard slap against her face.

"Ah!" a gasp escaped her breath.

She grabbed her face in both palms not to slip from her grip, like a ball of coconut from the tree. She noticed a salty taste in her mouth and smelled the metallic fragrance that came with it. Grace spat out saliva and it was bloody. She wasn't expecting this. Her breath trembled as she tried, hard not to cry. But this time, the tears poured.

"Now, shoot am." the police officer who handled her gun, pressed. It seemed they were determined. She shut her eyes and more tears rolled down. She couldn't help but cry like a baby.

The first police pointed a short handgun at her head, and she grasped its grip at once.

Silently choking and sniffling.

With both hands directed at Micheal. He was a stranger she had just met a minute ago. She had no grudge against him, even if she did, there wasn't enough reason to kill him. The heat in her breath gave her self-pity. There was no way out.

Grace exhaled. Her eyes blinked twice, and her index finger rested on the trigger of the handgun. She took in a soft breath and let out another hot breath. Once she opened her eyes...

"Kpooh!" she fired a shot at the man standing right next to her. "Kpooh!"

It gave a bullet to each police officer who stood close to her. About to shoot the third who was away from them, he brought out his gun and raised shots at both of them.

Frightened, Micheal ran towards his open car.

Luckily, they were able to escape the stray bullets as they flew past them. He rolled into the gutter and continued raining bullets at the vehicle. He seemed skilled at targeting his opponent. Once Grace entered the car, she turned to Micheal as he struggled. His right hand held onto the steering wheel and his left held onto his bleeding arm.

"Oh no, you're bleeding, sir. What do we do?" She panicked.

Without reply, Micheal turned on his car engine. It looked as if time stopped while she watched him but he drove into the darkness, determined to leave the scene.

The third police were shooting at them and Micheal's car suddenly crashed into a log of wood. Micheal's head smashed against the driving wheel, but he revised and drove on with great force.

In the dimly lit night, the piercing headlights illuminated the desolate road ahead, casting long shadows on either side. The sound of the engine hummed in harmony with the rhythmic beating of raindrops against the windshield. Adrenaline coursed through Micheal's veins as he gripped the steering wheel with anticipation, eager to reach and leave the scene.

Unexpectedly, out of the corner of his eye, a large log of wood emerged from the darkness and sprawled across the road. Time seemed to slow down as Micheal instinctively swerved to avoid a direct collision. The screeching of tires echoed through the air, followed by a jarring impact.

"Oh, no!" Grace yelled.

The vehicle jolted violently as it met the log, causing a cascade of splintered wood and shattered glass. The airbags deployed with a thunderous explosion, enveloping the both of them in a cushioned cocoon. Sudden darkness engulfed the scene as the headlights flickered and died.

Momentarily stunned, Grace blinked and coughed out on the stranger. She took a deep breath, feeling the sharp sting of pain from the impact. A cough forced out of her lungs once again. It choked her breath.

Although Grace came to consciousness of what happened, she opened her eyes and lifted her body from Micheal, who was bleeding from his head. His eyes were closed.

"Sir!" Grace tapped him on the shoulders. Michael tried opening his eyes, but he only gasped in reply.

"Sir, wake up. We can still make it out alive. Don't sleep, sir!" Grace screamed to his hearing.

With all her strength, she pulled his body from his smokey car, but while doing that, a single bullet whizzed at her. She turned back and it struck her in the back. While the silver bullet pierced through her, Grace slumped her face to the cold wet floor.

The third police officer who just shot at her escaped the scene with a bleeding arm.

Micheal blinked, watching her give up on life was a nightmare that brought him into consciousness.

An eerie stillness lulled the silence, interrupted only by the soft patter of raindrops. Gradually, the adrenaline in Micheal began to subside, giving way to a sense of unease as he gathered his wits.

When inspecting the aftermath, it was evident that the front of the vehicle suffered the most damage from the collision, with crumpled and mangled parts. The hood groans under the weight of the log, wedged tightly against the engine compartment. It scattered shards of broken glass like confetti, glittering in the pale moonlight.

Trying to lift Grace, a stranger he knew nothing about, a single tear rolled down the side of Micheal's weak eyes. Reaching for his mobile phone, Micheal's lifeline to the outside world, only to realize the incident buried it beneath the debris.

The rain intensified, drenching his bleeding arm in seconds. Shortly, the sound of sirens in the distance instilled a glimmer of hope, which reminded him that help was on its way. Micheal awaited assistance, as long as he could, but it was too late. Ending up in the hospital was the last thing Michael wanted, but he was glad to help come. However, he hoped the girl who took a bullet for him a while ago would get treatment before him. A small smile formed in his life, knowing the horrible night would end with delight.

The morning sun was on the cusp of rising, promising a beautiful day. Only Susanne competed with its beauty. She arrived at the serene mansion on the outskirts of her matrimonial home at Maitama, Abuja. Susanne zoomed through the white automatic gates and parked her black Highlander in the parking lot.

With a sense of anticipation, she unbuckled her seatbelts. Suzanne stepped out of her car with a rich leathery purse at hand, allowing the chilly morning air to embrace her. A diamond pin-earrings on her gave her a glimmer of royalty. The security officer bowed as she walked into the Balogun's mansion. The palatial interior was equally breathtaking, with white-tiled walls, glass ceilings, and glass floors.

The moment Suzanne furthered into the building, she was welcomed by Musimbi, an elderly maid who struggled her way from Kenya to Nigeria at a very young age. She worked with the Balogun Family for forty years and had been good at her cleaning and caregiving job. Musimbi collected Suzanne's handbag with a bow and hurried upstairs into her boss's room.

Scurrying into the first living room, a girl broke the silence in a crop top and ragged-jean bum shorts. Susanne's eyes caught Crystabelle Balogun, the twenty-year-old sister of her husband, Micheal Balogun. Her legs crossed on the glass stool with designed golden stands. Her gaze focused on the fancy palm top in her hands as she played a candy-crush game.

"Cryst!" Susanne called on her pet name, but she turned a deaf ear because of the game she was playing.

Susanne walked up to her, a little pestered. "Can't you stop parking your car at my spot? Can't you be more understanding?"

"You'll agree that this is my house too, sister-in-law. My father built this house and gifted it to my brother... So, you're privileged to live with us, wifey!" Crystabelle replied to her in a flat tone, still focused on the game.

"Miss Cryst!" Musimbi, the maid who was in her mid-fifties, intervened. "That's no way to talk to your brother's wife." She corrected. Because of her closeness to family, Musimbi treated Crystabelle as a daughter instead of her boss's daughter. But she felt guilt anytime she came up with a suggestion or advice.

"Why do you like interrupting my conversations?" Crystabelle rolled her eyes and hissed at the maid in disgust. "Perhaps I wasn't talking to you. Can you get something done? Please!" she threw her head back and looked up towards the ceiling.

In disappointment, Musimbi held onto her chest and walked to the kitchen, leaving Susanne and Cryst alone.

Once she left, Cryst dropped her palm top on the white leather sofa and walked up to her sister-in-law, who was in a navy blue jumpsuit. "You must be trying so hard to woo my brother. I see you're coming from the gym." she blushed in mockery.

"Am I not allowed to woo my husband?"

"Sure, you are. Why not?" Cryst chortled and leaned into Susanne with her arms on her shoulder. "You see... Once you left, my brother picked up some clothes and took them off with his travelling bag. He told me that he won't be back till the weekend."

"What?" A small gasp escaped Susanne's lips. The hope in her eyes begged Cryst for an urgent reply. "Where did he go again? Did Micheal travel without telling me?"

"No, not outside the country, though. He went to see Camilla Adeleke."

Rage burned in Susanne's chest as she heard the name Camilla. Her stomach suddenly dropped at a feeling of nausea. A stab of hatred for Micheal struck through Susanne. 'How long would I keep being the understanding wife? Just how long? Shouldn't he get over with his ex? For goodness' sake, I am Micheal's wife!'

She swallowed the lump of fear down her throat and shut her eyes for a moment. Tears collected from her eyelashes once she let open her gaze. The fear of murdering one of them haunted her mind but, she abandoned the thought. Susanne almost stumbled as her vision blurred, but Cryst held her firm enough not to fall.

"You try to be the perfect wife for Micheal, yet, he doesn't even see you. No... Not that. He doesn't know that you exist. You know, when you guys first married, I thought your love was pure, real, and non-fictitious. It made me hopeful, but now I wonder why you guys even got married. I mean, you married into our family for our name and fame. And my brother on the other can't, lives in mystery with you by his side. You guys literally can't breathe the same air. As for Camilla, I think she's the real deal." Susanne flinched at Cryst's grip at once.

"How... How long? How long had he left?"

"You should have gotten used to this by now. Micheal never stays home." Cryst nodded at Susanne in self-pity. "If your beauty has faded in Micheal's eyes by now, and he's flirting with his ex... I wonder how he'll treat you when you get pregnant and fat. I mean, there's no love in this marriage, but you're still forcing it and you both promised to stay forever? Oh, jeez!" She tapped her forehead as if pained. "What a life?"

Susanne left the living room abruptly, got into her Highlander, and left the house. At once, her shivering hands turned on her GPS and opened the geolocation app on her phone. It tracked where Micheal was with Camilla. They were having fun on a ship at Jabi Lake.

Pulling over by the gates, Susanne rushed with her sneakers, hitting the tiled road as fast as she could. Thinking about Micheal spending time with his Ex-girlfriend was unbearable. She needed to catch him red-handed. If that happens, she'd take photographs and send them to the media house for publication. There would be a valid reason and evidence for their divorce, and who knows, it might come with compensation for the five years of physical and emotional pains he had put her through.

She kicked a gate open and searched for his ship. Micheal had a special ship at Jabi Lake. He usually uses it for personal use. Three other white yachts stood by his ship at the bank of the late. Some passengers sat in each of them, and Susanne didn't notice. All on her mind was to confront Micheal and his whore.

"Micheal! Where are you?" She screamed out his name, at the top of her lungs. "Micheal!"

Camilla, who was having a nap in the inner room, gazed upwards. She wondered who it was. The area was silent and well-reserved.

"Where the hell are you, cheater? Micheal!" Susanne cried out his name once more.

Micheal stepped up from the inner room only to meet his frustrated wife on his ship.

"Wifey, why are you here?"

"You think I won't find you? You can't hide your ship from me?"

"What are you saying, Susanne?" he frowned at her words.

Her eyes swiftly lifted, and she spun around. "Where is she?"

"Who? Who are you talking about?"

"The bitch you're flirting with on your ship! I know you're in there, so come out!" Susanne demanded.

Camilla, who just woke from the inner room, stepped out. She had a white knee-length dress on. Her makeup was light on her radiant, caramel skin. Her slow steps annoyed Susanne even more. She looked like a mermaid, revealing her pairs of legs for the first time. For goodness' sake, this wasn't a beauty pageant.

In shock, Camilla's blooming lips parted as she walked up to the couple. On her was a pair of creamy pearls of jewellery Susanne instantly envied. They brought out Camilla's magnificence. Susanne bet it would be worth a fortune, but she stuck to her plan of exposing the both of them.

"Who are you?" Camilla asked with raised brows. Micheal never introduced them.

"I'm Mrs. Susanne Balogun, Micheal's beloved wife. And you?" Susanne emphasized, still boiling inside.

"Uh!" Camilla sighed and turned to Micheal with an awkward smile. Micheal gasped and ran his right hand over his head, hazily. He couldn't help but imagine what was playing in his wife's mind.

Camilla briefly shut her eyes and nibbled on her lower lip. Then she turned to Micheal once more.

"Mike, I can't do this right now. Take your wife home, okay? We would meet some other time."

"Whore! Do you still want to meet my husband at my back? Don't you have any shame?"

"Thwack!" She whacked a hot slap across her face.

"Susanne! What was the need for that?" Micheal interjected.

"You're simply crazy, and you need help!" Camilla cursed with hate in her eyes and voice. "I don't want to lay curses on an ignorant woman like you because of the love I have for Micheal!"

"I'm sorry, dear. She's just so-" Micheal pleaded to her as if they were married, and she was the other woman.

"Keep quiet, Mike!" Camilla abruptly cut in. "Let me talk some sense into her a little. Maybe she will break free from this inferiority complex that eating her up!" She spat at Micheal and he held her arm with imploring eyes.

"Despite my suggestion to go to the hotel, you were adamant about meeting here, Mike! You see what you've caused?" Her eyes misted over with pain in her voice. "I've wasted so much time here. Let's meet for business after you've settled all of your family problems, okay?"

About to leave, Susanne grabbed Camilla by her hair to know if was a wig she had on.

"Husband snatcher, where do you think you're going?" It surprised Susanne when it didn't come off initially, so she tightened her grip with her strong fingers.

"Take your hands off her right now!" Micheal demanded, pulling her away from Camilla. "You've done your worst, now go home!"

A door behind them suddenly opened. It was Kanye, Micheal's manager who is also a close friend of his. "What's going on here?"

"You're so vexatious!" Micheal blurted to his wife.

Camilla picked up her diamond-laced purse on a marble table and walked out of the ship.

"Where are you going?"

"I'm leaving for A

One dark and stormy night, the wind howled through the trees like an angry spirit, and the rain lashed against the earth with relentless fury. Broken only by intermittent flashes of lightning, the twisted shapes of the gnarled branches outside were illuminated, enveloping the sky in inky blackness. The air was heavy with the scent of wet earth. Contributing to the ominous atmosphere was another distant rumble of thunder.

The darkness seemed to swallow all sound, creating an eerie silence interrupted only by the occasional passing vehicles. It was a night that seemed to carry the weight of untold secrets and hidden fears, a night when one's imagination could run wild with the possibility of unseen horrors lurking just beyond the edge of visibility.

Kanye drove smoothly through the road. He took a swift turn around the roundabout to the right, passing the City gate, which led to the central area of Abuja.

The streetlights highlighted the sheets of rain sweeping sideways in the wind.

Kanye sat in the driver's seat while he drove. His eyes focused on the wet, empty road. The streetlights glimmered through the tinted window glasses.

Micheal sat next to him in the passenger's seat. The thoughts of Susanne's wife scattered his mind in a riddle as his empty eyes focused on nothingness. Micheal could not understand. It baffled him how she knew he went to see Camilla. It must be Cryst. He guessed. Knowing how nasty his younger sister can be. But that wasn't the bone of contention. What disturbed Michael even more was Camilla. They searched the airport and didn't meet her. Her phone was also switched off. It had been hours, and he didn't know about her whereabouts. Not even a call or a text. However, Micheal left her a couple of messages.

A loud rumble of thunder hit the sky as a sky quakes from heaven's roar in the distance, flashing like paparazzi taking unexpected photographs. Looking through the transparent windows, Micheal's gaze caught the streak of lightning but he didn't hear the thunder because it was too far away.

The air was heavy with the scent of wet earth and the distant rumble of thunder added to the ominous atmosphere. Somehow, the lightning threatened to take out an old oak tree that stood by the side of the road.

"Sir! Don't sleep. Sir!" She tapped him on the shoulders while Micheal tried opening his eyes but he only gasped in reply.

"Sir, wake up. We can still make it out alive. Don't sleep, sir!" Susanne yelled at his hearing. With all her strength, she pulled his body from his smokey car, but while doing that, a single bullet whizzed at her. She turned back, and it struck her in the back.

"Kanye." Micheal gasped. A single tear rolled down his eyes.

"Uh?" Kanye replied, still focused on the driving.

"Stop the car, please."

Kanye stepped on the brake, and the car came to a halt. He couldn't help but worry about his friend Micheal, who watched the wall of trees as they danced to the tune of the wind.

The darkness seemed to swallow all sound, creating an eerie silence interrupted only by the occasional creaking of the trees and roaring thunderclap.

"Does it bring your memory back to that night's incident?" He asked. "How was Susanne 3 years ago?"

An endless swath of vibrant blue and a temporary break in the humidity suddenly made him feel like Susanne stood there. He couldn't help but remember the first day they met. How she shivered helplessly under the rain. How she defended him from the impersonators and shot their legs. Micheal remembered vividly, just like yesterday. How she took a bullet for him. He wondered how that selfless girl had now grown into a greedy witch.

The memory came as a flashback.

A stifling wave of fear swept over Micheal, while his knee trembled below. Kanye didn't notice. Only Micheal felt the shivering in his bones. Once she passed out, he remembered vividly that the ambulance came for him. And when Micheal woke up in the sick bed three days after the incident, he met himself alone in the ward.

"Oh, he's awake! He's awake!" A petite nurse checking on his drip, calmly blushed.

She turned to call the doctor when he clasped her hand. Like his life depended on her.

"What? What is it, sir?" she frowned upon him.

Her eyes searched his for quick answers. Micheal had been in a vegetable state for 3 days. She wondered why he was yet, so strong.

"You." Micheal looked at the strange nurse as though she was the one. But she wasn't. "Where is that lady?"

"Which lady?" the nurse scowled.

"The one that saved my life at the incident." He held onto his head as a sharp pain struck him hard. She was in a wet, white dress. Yes, he remembered.

"You were alone at the incident. They found two police impersonators shot in the leg and they're arrested now. There was no lady at the scene, sir." The nurse finally let go of her hand. His grip loosened to the last word she uttered.

As Micheal took a sharp breath in, his heart exploded in his ribcage. It was unbelievable. 'Was she still there? Or did someone else find her?'

Micheal's chin trembled as tears filled his eyes, unable to wrap his mind around the situation. His vision turned blurry. She was a stranger. He didn't even know her name. They only met briefly, but Michael couldn't pull the tears back, though he tried hard.

"Don't worry, just lay down for a bit. I'll call the doctor right away." She helped him lie on the bed and hurried out to alert the doctor on duty.

Tears poured from Micheal's eyes like a thunderstorm when he found out she wasn't at the hospital. Drenching his cheeks and leaving him gasping for breath. The thought of Susanne dying haunted him for weeks. After being discharged, Micheal began searching for her until he eventually located her.

"Susanne must have forgotten everything." Micheal watched the silent night through the window as he explained and sighed. "Sometimes, I wonder if she didn't remember me or if she's just a different person. But Susanne was the lady... And she has forgotten."

Tears stung Kanye's eyes, but he dared not to cry. He silently pondered, his jaws tightly clenched.

"It doesn't matter anymore," Micheal said with a sigh and looked away. "Let's go."

Later that evening, Susanne sat in front of her three-faced mirror, gently combing her hair. Her reflection on it looked as beautiful as ever. In front of the standing mirror were her body lotion, perfumes, and some makeup kit.

After she came back from Jabi Late, Susanne came home, had a shower, and ordered Musimbi to prepare pounded yam and Egusi soup, which was Micheal's favorite. Then she sat in the room, hoping he would return home. Susanne was a pretty lady with a novel structural face and pretty enormous eyes. It was because of her magnificence and connections that got an offer from a multi-billionaire fashion and beauty company. Even as a model, and a wife of a billionaire, she still felt something about her was amiss. The thought that Micheal went after other women tormented her. And there might be no way to break through. "What if he sends me out and packing? What if Micheal divorces me?" Susanne contemplated, staring at her reflection.

She swallowed on her saliva, and her slim, long fingers crawled to her chest of drawers. Susanne pulled out one and there was a picture in it. A picture of a lady with a sticking resemblance to her. One would think it was Susanne in her younger years. The only difference was that Susanne had braided her natural hair in cornrows, and the lady in the picture appeared a bit more miserable than elegant.

Susanne picked up the picture and gazed at it a little more. She looked prettier even without makeup products on. Lost in thought, Susanne's gaze rose to the mirror, watching herself. The boney-tail wig on her made her look like a foreign woman. The red lipstick she was addicted to was also just a fortune.

"Fortune," Susanne emphasized with a smirk of self-confidence. "That is what makes me unique."