Grace tiptoed toward the mansion's massive door, her heart racing as she took in the eerie silence that filled the house. It felt as though the entire place was holding its breath, the quiet so loud it unnerved her. She had just brushed her teeth, taken a quick shower, and combed her natural hair, though a visit to the salon was long overdue. Still, there was no time for such things now. Grace slowly opened the door, half-expecting someone to be standing there, eavesdropping, or lurking in the shadows. But there was no one. Shutting the door quietly behind her, she pulled out her phone and scrolled through her contacts to call Susanne. She had grown worried about her sister.

Meanwhile, at another corner of town, Kingsley was feeding Susanne a bowl of Golden Morn mixed with milk and strawberry sprinkles. She sat comfortably on a foam chair, allowing herself to be pampered like a child, while Kingsley, perched on the edge of the table, brought the spoon to her lips. The sudden buzzing of Susanne's phone startled them both. Susanne’s annoyed hiss broke the calm atmosphere.

"Mum, help me with the phone, please. Who's calling?" she asked, turning to Mrs. Nike, who stood nearby. Her mother handed her the phone with a puzzled expression.

"How come you're calling yourself?" Mrs. Nike asked. Susanne ignored the question and signaled for her mother to leave the room.

"Sis," Susanne spoke into the phone as soon as her mother left, "I'm really sorry I didn't make it yesterday. I had everything planned out, but then I fell and broke my knee. It was just one thing after another. Did you wait for me all night?"

"Yes, I did," Grace replied, her voice laced with concern. "Are you still in India? How are you feeling now?"

"Yes, I'm still here because my results aren't out yet. But I told the doctor to send them to my email so I could come back sooner. I didn't want to make you feel guilty for waiting. But in all the rush, I fell and hurt myself," Susanne explained.

"Is it that bad?" Grace asked, the worry clear in her voice.

"It’s not looking good. The doctor insisted I stay back for treatment and wait for the results," Susanne replied, her tone growing distant. "I don't know how long I'll be here. But..." Her voice cracked, and the line suddenly went silent.

"Hello? Susanne, are you still there?" Grace's voice was tense.

"I think the network is bad," Susanne lied, ending the call abruptly.

Back in the room, Kingsley had been watching her closely, his eyebrows furrowed with curiosity. "Who did you give your phone to? Does your husband know that you’re in Gwagwalada?" he asked.

Susanne scoffed, her expression twisting into defiance. "And why would I tell them that when I found my twin sister?" she replied, folding her arms.

"Your twin?" Kingsley echoed in disbelief. "You never mentioned you had a twin. And you asked her to take your place in Michael’s house? Are you serious?"

"Yes," Susanne said, a tear slipping down her cheek as she straightened up. "I’m pregnant, and I’ll have this child before I return. God is helping me through this."

Kingsley’s expression shifted to a bittersweet smile. "How much do you trust her? Isn’t this risky, relying so much on a stranger?"

Susanne shook her head, a confident smirk curling her lips. "Grace is not a stranger. We keep in touch daily, and everything is going according to plan. Besides, Michael never really paid attention to me; he won’t notice the difference."

Meanwhile, at Auntie Funke’s house, Cryst was sprawled out on a massage bed. "Auntie Funke, why did you tell my dad about my fight with Michael?" she whined.

Auntie Funke chuckled as she continued the massage. "Do you think your dad wouldn't find out eventually? The man has eyes and ears everywhere. If I hadn’t told him, he would have blamed me for not looking after you two."

Cryst groaned in frustration but leaned back as Auntie Funke’s fingers worked their magic. "I know. I just hate that Michael and Susanne will be back together once he’s home from the hospital. How annoying."

"Don't worry," Auntie Funke murmured, her eyes darkening. "Nothing will happen between them."

Cryst looked at her in surprise. "What do you mean?"

Auntie Funke's smile was wicked as she said, "Susanne has been on contraceptives for the last five years. I doubt she even has a womb anymore."

Cryst shot up, her eyes wide with disbelief and joy. "Are you serious?"

"Why would I lie to you, sweetheart?" Auntie Funke replied smoothly.

Cryst hugged Auntie Funke tightly, tears of relief pooling in her eyes. "You’re the best, Auntie!"

Back at the mansion, Grace was overcome with frustration after her call with Susanne. Her eyes were puffy from crying, her mind raced with doubts and fears. "What should I do now?" Her thoughts were interrupted by a soft knock at the door.

"Come in," she said, her voice hoarse.

Musimbi entered, carrying a tray of tea. "Madam, you look troubled. Please drink this and come downstairs for breakfast."

"I can't leave the room," Grace muttered. "Bring my breakfast up here, please."

Musimbi nodded and quickly tidied up before leaving to fetch Grace’s meal. Just as she left, the front door opened downstairs, and Cryst helped her father, Mr. Balogun, into the house while Michael followed with a cup of water and shut the door behind.

"How come you never called me, Dad?" Cryst asked, her voice tinged with childish complaint.

Mr. Balogun chuckled as he settled onto the sofa. "I’m not good with phones, you know that. It’s you who didn’t check on me."

As Michael set the cup down, Mr. Balogun's face grew serious. "Where's my daughter-in-law?" he asked, peering over his glasses.

"She should be in the room," Michael answered.

"Call her for me," Mr. Balogun ordered, but before anyone could move, a loud scream echoed through the mansion. Musimbi came running down the stairs, her face pale.

"There's bad news, sir," she cried. "Susanne fell—she's bleeding and unconscious!"

Michael bolted up the stairs, shouting for an ambulance, while Mr. Balogun's hands trembled on his walking stick. It wasn’t long before the ambulance arrived and whisked Grace away to Sauki Hospital. The Balogun family waited with bated breath as doctors and nurses rushed in and out of the emergency ward.

As Mr. Balogun settled into the chair, his expression turned stern while he leaned on his walking stick. The air in the waiting area thickened with tension, with everyone’s eyes darting between the hallway and the old man’s rigid figure. He hadn’t been home for long before an accident occurred. It didn’t sit well with him, and he intended to get answers.

"The moment I come back, there’s an accident," Mr. Balogun said, his voice edged with frustration. His gaze pierced Michael. "How incompetent are you, Michael? How can you let this happen under your watch? Your wife falls in the bathroom that you share, and you’re telling me it’s nothing more than an accident? It’s fishy."

Michael struggled to find his voice, but before he could respond, Cryst jumped in. "Dad, it was an accident," she insisted, though her tone lacked conviction. "These things happen. Don’t blame Michael. Susanne should have been more careful—she’s an adult, not a baby."

A dark cloud formed over Mr. Balogun’s features as he narrowed his eyes at Cryst. "So you’re saying she hit her head on purpose? To gain pity? You think she would harm herself just to manipulate me?" His voice trembled with restrained anger. "How absurd! You and Michael are the ridiculous ones. I’m not blind to how you two treat her behind my back. Michael doesn’t give her enough attention, and you’re always against her. I’ve seen it."

His voice grew louder, echoing through the corridor. Michael finally broke his silence, though his words were heavy with guilt. "Dad, please calm down. I accept the blame. I promise I’ll make things right."

"Of course you need to," Mr. Balogun barked, his voice booming as he jabbed his walking stick into the tiled floor. "You married her and brought her into this house, claiming you wanted to spend forever with her. Is this how you show that? I’ve told you time and again, Michael, spend more time with your wife instead of burying yourself in business. But you wouldn’t listen."

Michael looked down, his hands trembling slightly. The weight of his father’s disappointment bore heavily on him.

"And what’s this I hear about you planning to transfer a measly 1% of our shares to her?" Mr. Balogun continued, his voice laced with disgust. "Is that what your wife is worth to you? A token percentage to keep her quiet while you plot a divorce? Did you really think I wouldn’t find out?"

Cryst stiffened at the revelation, her eyes darting toward Michael, who looked as though he’d been caught red-handed. "You were planning to divorce her?" she whispered, though the words dripped with barely concealed delight.

Mr. Balogun’s gaze snapped to Cryst, his face hardening. "And you," he said sharply. "What are you whispering about? Were you in on this plan too? Helping your brother get rid of his wife?"

Cryst's mouth went dry as she struggled to defend herself. "No, Dad, I—"

"Enough!" Mr. Balogun roared, the veins in his neck visible as his voice thundered through the waiting area. "You must be out of your mind, both of you. Plotting behind my back like this—it's shameful. You think you can play pretend in front of me while conspiring to throw that woman out of your lives? Not while I’m alive, Michael. You’d better rethink that ugly scheme of yours."

A tense silence fell over them, broken only by the faint beep of machines in the distance. Michael clenched his jaw, unable to meet his father’s gaze, while Cryst stared at the ground, her fingers twisting nervously.

Then, just as Mr. Balogun opened his mouth to continue, a nurse emerged from the hallway, her expression solemn. "Mr. Balogun?" she called out.

All eyes turned to her as she hesitated for a moment before saying, "There’s something you need to know about Susanne's condition."

Everyone held their breath. Mr. Balogun’s grip on his walking stick tightened. “What is it?” he asked, his voice barely a whisper, but his tone demanding answers.

The nurse looked uncertain as she approached, glancing at Michael and Cryst before turning back to Mr. Balogun. “There’s... something unusual about her test results. We need to speak privately.”

The room seemed to tilt, the walls closing in as a thousand questions hung in the air. What could possibly be wrong? What secrets were about to unravel? And why did the nurse look so hesitant? Was Grace, or perhaps Susanne, hiding a secret far darker than anyone had imagined?

As Mr. Balogun stood to follow the nurse, a chill ran through him. He had a sinking feeling that whatever he was about to learn would change everything.