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Chapter One: The Night It Never Left
The room was quiet, but Esohe's mind was anything but.
She folded the last pair of jeans into her duffel bag and zipped it shut like she was sealing away a part of herself. Tomorrow, she'd be leaving Benin for Lagos — a new phase, a new life, a city full of unknowns and, hopefully, healing.
Her eyes caught the mirror.
She paused.
And for a moment, she just looked.
She was beautiful.
Brown skin like polished mahogany, soft and glowing. A slender waist curved into full hips, the kind that gave her a graceful, commanding presence. Her face held the kind of beauty that was almost defiant — high cheekbones, almond-shaped eyes that carried more emotion than she ever said out loud, and full lips that held secrets she never told. She was tall — the kind of tall that made red dresses look made for her.
Like the one hanging on the back of her door now.
The red dinner dress her roommate had insisted she pack — "In case Lagos comes with a little magic," she had teased.
Esohe gave a small smile.
She didn't believe in magic. Not anymore.
She turned away from the mirror, but just as she picked up her edge control from the dresser, it hit her.
That smell.
Rain. Wet sand. Cool evening air.
A scent. A trigger.
The same scent from that night.
Her fingers froze mid-air. Her breath caught.
The memory opened like a wound.
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Benin City. Fifteen years ago.
It had rained that afternoon. Not heavily — just enough to make the earth soft and the sky grey.
Her family had gone to church for evening service. She was wearing a blue gown, and her mum had braided her hair into twin puffs the night before. She was five.
Church was lively. She had danced. Clapped. Fallen asleep halfway through the sermon.
By the time they returned home, night had fallen. Everyone was tired and hungry — and that was when they discovered the key to the house was missing. Bags were searched. Pockets turned inside out. Her mother began to panic.
Esohe, not wanting to be caught in the tension, quietly slipped away. She knew exactly where to go.
The neighbor's room.
He always played with her. Let her roll marbles on his tiled floor. Sometimes gave her sweets. He smiled at her like a friend.
So she ran. The door was slightly open. She stepped in without knocking.
And that was the last time she ever saw innocence the same way again.
The room was quiet. Too quiet. She turned to look at him, expecting a smile.
But his face was blank.
Then, something changed.
He locked the door.
And in the next few minutes, something terrible happened — something her five-year-old mind couldn't fully understand. She didn't have the words then. She still struggled to say them now.
But it left a scar that would follow her into womanhood.
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Present Day.
Esohe opened her eyes.
Her face was wet.
She hadn't even realized she'd been crying.
She stood tall in front of the mirror again. Wiped her tears with her palm. Reached for the red dress and held it in front of her chest.
Maybe… just maybe… Lagos would be the beginning of something new.
She whispered softly to herself,
"That night doesn't get to decide my future."
Then she zipped her bag, grabbed her small box, and turned off the light.
Tomorrow, everything would change.
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