Michael entered Grace’s hospital and caught the glance of her sitting on a Mable bench under the tree. With a firm smile, he walked up to her, holding a basket filled with freshly picked strawberries and red apples he had just bought. He smiled softly, trying to lighten the somber air. “I knew you wouldn’t follow me home, so I brought your favourite fruits and your mum over,” he explained, handing her the basket.

Grace managed a small smile, though her expression looked forced. “Thank you,” she murmured, avoiding his gaze.

Michael glanced eastward as a gentle voice called out. “Hello, dear. How are you feeling now?” It was Mrs. Nike, her mother with worry, etched in her eyes. Grace’s lips twisted into a slight frown. She barely knew this woman, though Susanne had introduced them briefly two weeks ago. Still, something about her felt… familiar.

Mrs. Nike reached over, presenting a thermos. “I made your favourite medicinal soup. Drink it while it’s hot.” Grace glanced at the flask, then shifted her gaze away, her face hardening.

“I… don’t accept things from strangers,” she replied curtly. “I appreciate you coming, but you’re not needed here.” With that, she stood and rubbed her arms, casting a longing look around as if searching for something in the evening air. Then, before either of them could respond, she turned and walked briskly back toward the hospital ward.

“Su... Susanne... What's wrong with her? Susanne, come back here!” Mrs. Nike called after her, voice laced with desperation. But Grace didn’t look back. She strode down the hall, leaving her mother stunned and silent. Michael watched the scene with a concerned frown. “What’s wrong with her?” Mrs. Nike stuttered, eyes wide with hurt. It was as if she couldn’t fathom why her daughter would act this way.

After a moment, Michael led Mrs. Nike back to Grace’s ward. Grace, now lying on her bed, feigned sleep, though she could feel her mother’s piercing gaze on her. Mrs. Nike’s expression softened, the lines around her eyes showing traces of sorrow. She couldn’t shake the strange feeling that this young woman was her daughter, despite the cold distance between them. Yet, her heart wrestled with doubt, especially since she knew that Susanne herself had asked Grace to fill in during her absence. She was fortune enough to be a replacement.

As she held Grace’s hand, a fake tear slipped down Mrs. Nike’s cheek. “Susanne, my dear,” she whispered, her voice quivering, “please get well soon.” She gently released Grace’s hand, stifling a sigh as she left the room.

Michael waited outside and caught Mrs. Nike’s pained expression as she emerged. “How is she?” he asked, giving her a moment to collect herself.

Mrs. Nike wiped her eyes and shook her head. “How can she not recognize me? I’m her mother,” she cried softly.

Michael placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. “Don’t worry, Ma. Susanne will be okay. The doctor assured us she just needs some time.”

She managed a weak nod, her gaze still troubled. “What if I stay here and help take care of her? I could be of use,” she suggested.

Michael offered her a reassuring smile. “Thank you, but you need to rest, too. You’re not young anymore. I’ll stay here, and if I need help, I’ll call you.”

Reluctantly, Mrs. Nike agreed. “Alright, son.”

“I’ll ask my driver to pick you up tomorrow. Maybe your visit will jog her memory.”

With a grateful nod, she allowed Michael to accompany her out of the hospital.

Once they were gone, Grace sat up in bed, her gaze trailing after them through the transparent window. Her mother’s concerned face lingered in her mind, and a pang of sadness twisted her chest. Tears began to roll down her cheeks, dripping onto her lips with a bitter taste.

“Hold on, Grace. Just a little longer,” she murmured, barely audible. It was hard to resist the urge to run after her mother, to fall into her arms and tell her everything. But now wasn’t the time. There was too much at stake.

In a daze, she reached for the thermos and opened it. The familiar aroma of the soup wafted out, comforting in a way she hadn’t anticipated. She sipped it tentatively, its warmth spreading through her like a balm. Despite everything, the soup lifted her spirits, a small reminder of love in the chaos of her deception.

Grace's phone buzzed, snapping her out of her thoughts. She quickly dialed Mr. Balogun’s number, and after a few rings, his deep, calm voice answered. “Hello, who am I speaking with?”

“Dad, it’s me… Susanne,” she said, her voice barely steady.

“Oh, dear, you called! How are you feeling?” he asked, his voice laced with concern.

“Better,” she replied, forcing her tone to sound cheerful. “I just wanted you to know I’ll be strong. The doctor said I should stay for a few more days for observation.”

“Thank you for letting me know,” he responded warmly. The call ended, and Grace let out a heavy sigh, her heart aching from the weight of her lies. She had fooled him, too. But for how long?

As she placed her phone down, unease settled in her chest. She couldn’t shake the feeling that time was running out, that sooner or later, her deceit would catch up with her. Just then, Michael appeared in the doorway, startling her.

“Have you called my dad and told him not to worry?” he asked, giving her a teasing grin.

Grace put a hand over her chest, feigning exasperation. “You scared me just now! Can’t you be more organized?”

Michael laughed, unbothered by her reaction. It was 6 p.m., and he had just returned from a quick trip home to freshen up. This time, he was dressed in a beige, senator-styled outfit with a darker accent pocket, his leather shoes polished to perfection. He looked more relaxed and casual, and for a moment, Grace was taken aback. She had never seen him outside of his formal office attire.

“Wow, I thought you wouldn’t visit until tomorrow. What are you doing here again, dressed like this?” she asked, trying to hide her surprise.

Michael chuckled. “I returned the thermos to your mum, and she sent another batch of soup for you.” He held it out.

“Really? That's nice!” Grace took it with a reluctant smile. “Would she visit me tomorrow?”

Seeing her excitement, Michael teased, “Blood is thicker than water, isn’t it? I’ve been here with you all day, but I still don’t get that kind of smile.” Grace laughed, brushing off his comment. “Well, I called your dad. I did you a favour,” she retorted.

Grace’s face softened as she lifted the thermos, savoring the warmth it emitted. Her thoughts soon drifted, her heart racing as she remembered her mission. She quickly slipped away to a corner, trying to call Susanne. The phone rang endlessly without an answer. Panic gripped her—what if she got caught?

Just then, Dr. John appeared with a nurse, startling her out of her thoughts. “Mrs. Balogun, what are you doing here?” he asked, eyeing her with a mixture of surprise and concern.

Grace forced a smile, recognizing the nurse beside him—Adanna, an old friend. Adanna’s expression darkened as she narrowed her eyes.

“Mrs. Balogun?” she echoed, disbelief flickering in her gaze.

Grace quickly pulled her aside, shutting the door behind them. “Adanna… please, let’s talk,” she said, her voice pleading.

Outside, they found a bench under a tree where Grace poured out her story. She revealed how Susanne, her twin sister, had asked her to pretend to be her while she traveled abroad for surgery. It was supposed to be a simple act, a temporary lie. But Grace had been swept into a web of deception, one that grew more tangled each day.

Adanna listened, her face etched with both shock and frustration. “So you’re lying to the entire Balogun family? Grace, this isn’t a movie. What if you get caught? These rich people are powerful... they can do and undo.” she whispered, glancing around nervously.

Grace hesitated, pain flashing in her eyes. “I know… but I’m doing this for my sister. She promised to sponsor my studies in Canada once she’s back. I just need to play this role until then.”

Adanna looked doubtful, her brow furrowing. “Are you sure you can trust her? I met Susanne once—she seemed… determined, like someone with her own agenda.”

Grace scoffed, dismissing the thought. “Susanne saved me when I had nothing. She took me in and gave me a life. I owe her everything. Besides, I don't have money, fame, and power as she has. What would she want from me?”

Adanna sighed, clearly unconvinced. “Just be careful, Grace. Ninety-nine days may be for the thief, but one day… the truth will come out.”

As they sat in silence, the weight of Adanna’s words settled heavily on Grace’s shoulders. For the first time, a sliver of doubt crept into her heart. What if she was just a pawn in Susanne’s game? What if everything she knew was a lie?

And as the sun began to set, Grace couldn’t shake the feeling that her fragile facade was about to crumble.

***

Thank you so much for being part of this journey with me. Starting this novel has been a dream come true—I've always wanted to write a long, Nigerian novel, and this story has been building in my mind since 2022, inspired by my fascination with identical twins. It’s complicated, I know, with Grace and Mrs. Nike having to pretend. To keep Mrs. Nike from discovering that her supposedly deceased daughter is actually alive, Susanne had to convince her mother to hide Grace’s true identity. And as for Grace... her life is about to become a whirlwind. Vote, comment and stay tuned—things are only going to get more intense from here!