Tobe looked exhausted.
“I’m tired.”
“So am I.”
“I want my life back.”
Nkiru put the papers down.
“At what price?”
“Sometimes survival is the price.”
She said nothing.
The signing was scheduled for the following morning.
Nkiru found out from an email Tobe left open.
She appeared at the lawyer’s office before he signed.
Tobe looked up.
“What are you doing here?”
“I came to see whether you would choose money before telling me.”
“This isn’t about money.”
“Then why didn’t you tell me you were signing today?”
His eyes dropped.
“Because I knew you’d ask me to keep fighting.”
“No.”
Nkiru sat opposite him.
“I would have asked what you wanted.”
“I want peace.”
She pointed at the confidentiality clause.
“Peace built on silence is what brought us here.”
Tobe’s jaw tightened.
“I am tired of being the man everybody whispers about.”
“Then do not sign something requiring you to whisper the truth.”
He did not sign.
That afternoon, Farin made the company’s position public internally.
Kunle Balogun’s employment was terminated immediately pending civil and criminal review.
Kunle stood in the boardroom with his hands resting on the chair.
“You will regret turning this into a spectacle.”
Farin answered:
“You turned it into theft.”
Tami stepped aside from executive duties pending governance review.
She accepted the decision.
Tobechukwu Eze was formally cleared of theft.
But Farin refused to create a false hero story.
The report also stated that Tobe had breached finance procedure by approving an inadequately verified transaction under executive pressure.
Tobe read the wording.
“That’s fair.”
Farin nodded.
“No rewritten history for anybody.”
Nkiru’s temporary corporate assignment became permanent.
Guest Experience and Ethics Manager.
Her role covered Meridian and several related hospitality businesses.
When a coworker told her:
“Corporate says you’re our new ethics manager.”
Nkiru corrected:
“Guest Experience and Ethics.”
The coworker smiled.
“So you’re my boss.”
“No.”
Nkiru picked up a service report.
“But you should still treat every customer properly.”
For the first time in months, it seemed possible that the Ezes might rebuild.
Tobe came home one evening and found Nkiru preparing dinner.
“I know clearing my name doesn’t fix us.”
She continued cutting vegetables.
“But can we try?”
Nkiru stopped.
“Trying requires no more edited versions of the truth.”
“You have all of it now.”
Her phone buzzed.
Unknown number.
Nkiru looked at Tobe.
“What is it?”
Another file.
The Abuja hotel footage, longer this time.
Six months after their wedding.
Tobe entering Tami’s suite.
Time stamp.
Duration.
Then leaving.
Nkiru held the phone.
“You said I had all of it.”
“Nothing happened between Tami and me.”
“You entered her suite.”
“Yes.”
“Alone.”
“Yes.”
“After marrying me.”
“Yes.”
“Honesty arriving five years late is not comfort.”
Tobe sat.
“She called me because of Kede.”
They went through it again.
The suspected paternity.
The DNA test.
Dapo’s involvement.
But this time Nkiru did not stop at the report.
She investigated.
The laboratory listed on the form still existed.
Through counsel, she requested confirmation of the archived accession number.
Something did not match.
The number existed.
The names existed.
But the report Tobe possessed did not match the laboratory’s archived result.