The sound of the door unlocking makes my stomach twist.
I quickly start gathering my things in the living room, making my way to my room to avoid any drama.
To think I'm actually the dramatic one.

"Adeola, I'm home," a man calls out as he walks in.

I don't respond. I don't even glance at him. I just keep walking, briskly, straight for my bedroom.

The moment I shut the door behind me, I collapse onto my bed.

Argh! Why did he have to come home now? I was about to cook my long-awaited stir-fry noodles.
In case you're wondering, that man is the one who was involved in my birth (I can't even call him my father-he doesn't deserve it).

I'm not going to get into the details, but that's how it's been for the last three years since my mum died.
But it's not going to be like this for much longer.

I just turned 18, and I've already graduated with a B.Sc (Hon) in Computer Engineering.
You wouldn't believe how much money tech makes in Nigeria. All I need is a job, and I'm outta here.

Though, let's be honest, every job I've applied for has ended in failure. But I'm not giving up anytime soon.
For now, I'll keep spending Mr. Bakare's money for food-he owes me that much.
Sad part? I still can't cook my damn stir-fry.

A knock on my door interrupts my thoughts.

"I just got a call. I won't be back for the next three days," he says.
I don't reply. I don't need to. He knows that.
And just like that, he leaves.
Hallelujah! Stir-fry, here I come!

More reason why I can't stand him. A man who puts work over his family. He's more like a red cloak than a red flag.
If he were my age, I wouldn't date him. Hell, I wouldn't advise any girl to date him.

I crank up my P1Harmony playlist and head to the kitchen, finally free to make my stir-fry.

---

The sound of the door again reminds me that three days have passed.
I start heading back to my room, as usual.

"Adeola, we need to talk."

Did I previously mention that I'm very dramatic?

I turn my head slowly to look at him.

"Yes, Mr. Bakare?" I say.

"I have a job offer for you."

What a beautiful way to skip formalities. No How are you?
Not like he doesn't already know-from the bodyguards-or that I'd even answer if he asked.

"Why would I need a job?" I ask.

"You know better than trying to play coy," he says smoothly. "I know you've been job hunting, and I have just the offer for you."
Of course he knew.
He's such a smooth talker for someone I'm on bad terms with.

Well-I'm on bad terms with him. He's perfectly fine. Not flustered one bit.

I laugh. "And why exactly should I accept your job offer?"

Wait. This is strange.
I've been asking questions. He's been answering.
This feels like an interrogation.
If my future in-laws were here, they'd say I've become omo tí ó lékọ̀-a child with no home training.

"If you accept," he says, "you'll be provided an apartment. Fully furnished. Yours. You just need to pack your clothes. The pay will feed and support you for over a year, until you find something steady."

My eyes light up at fully furnished.
No. Control yourself. Don't show interest.

"Forgive my persistent questioning," I say carefully. "But where exactly is this job offer coming from?"

He sighs.

Aha. I knew it.

"The agency," he says.

And there you have it, folks.
The wedge in our relationship.

I don't even know if I should be saying this, but I'm telling you because it's just us-and you won't tell anyone, right?

Mr. Bakare is...
Drumroll, please.
No. Don't bother.

A spy.
A government spy.
E shock you?

If you're wondering whether Nigeria has spies-yes, we do.
Why do you think bad things keep happening?

And somehow, he expected me to just say yes. Because I want to escape his house.
Brace yourselves, people.
I am the drama. (Winter's voice.)

"To think that you brought this to me and expected me to just say yes," I say, laughing bitterly. "That actually cracks me up."

"Well, can I blame you?" I continue, my voice rising. "I mean, it's not like I have friends or family members who'll be put in danger if I accept, right?"

"You haven't even heard what the job is about," he counters.

"Do I need to?" I snap. "Do you think I'm like you?"

I'm yelling now.

"They say children grow up to become their parents, but clearly that rule has exceptions-especially in my case. Because I will never stoop so low to be like you."
My eyes burn.

"I'm sorry," I say suddenly. "I shouldn't have yelled."

I swallow.

"I assume you understand that I've rejected the offer, and you won't bring it up again. Good night."

I turn toward my room.

"You haven't had dinner yet," he says.

"I'm not hungry," I reply, already at my door.

I walk in and shut it behind me.
I'm not going to cry.
No.

...I'm so hungry. Why did I say that?
I had just boiled rice to eat with gizdodo.
My gizdodo.

I did say I'm dramatic. Don't look too shocked. I'm ending this quickly because it's our first meeting and I don't want you judging me too hard.

I crash onto my bed and stare at the ceiling.

It's true-I'm lonely.

I was practically homeschooled most of my life. Not that I've lived very long.
The only in-person school I ever attended was secondary school. And even that ended too quickly-my mum died two weeks after my SS3 graduation.
After that, I disappeared.

I cut off contact with everyone. Went completely off the radar. I attended an American university so I could earn my degree from home.
So unlike other kids who can crash at their best friend's place-I have none.

No extended family either. No one wants me. They think they'll die like my mum.
Can't even blame them.
She chose the wrong husband.
And maybe I wouldn't have been born just to suffer all this misery.

---

I was just finishing my laundry when my phone rang.
Sometimes I wonder why I even have a ringtone. No one ever calls me-except Mr. Bakare.
And the last time he did was about a year ago.
Wait.
Today might actually be the anniversary of his final call.
Minje's deep, manly voice from my ringtone drags me back to reality. I hesitate, then answer.
"Am I speaking with Ms. Adeola Bakare?" a woman asks.
"Who's calling?" I reply.
"I'm calling from the National Intelligence and Security Directorate."
The agency.
How did they get my number?
That thought barely settles before I realize how stupid it is. Of course they have my number. These people probably know what I'm planning to eat for dinner.
"How did you get my number?" I ask anyway-still stupid.
"I don't think that's important, Ms. Bakare," she says calmly. "We'd like to meet you by 4 p.m."
"I'm sorry, I can't," I reply quickly. "I have nothing to discuss with you."
"I'm very sure you do," she says-and hangs up.
A message drops immediately.
My blood freezes.
Another message follows.
Dodo Pizza.
4 p.m.
I glance at the wall clock.
3:32.
I run to my room and start changing.
I arrive at Dodo Pizza exactly at 4 p.m. I scan the place, expecting men in suits or at least dark sunglasses.
Instead, an innocent-looking woman waves at me.
These people are terrifying.
If they killed me right now, no one would ever know.
"Welcome, Ms. Bakare," she says pleasantly.
Hearing my surname from a stranger's lips feels wrong. Too official.
"What was that message about?" I ask, skipping pleasantries.
"I like straightforward people," she says. "It's exactly what it looked like."
"He would never do that," I snap.
"Oh, we know," she replies gently. "But that doesn't really matter in the face of irrefutable evidence, does it?"
My stomach drops.
"So you're going to frame him just to get rid of him?" I scoff.
"No," she says. "We won't-if you help us. And the offer still stands."
I exhale sharply. "What do you want?"
A smile curves her lips. "I'm glad we're on the same page."
She leans forward slightly. "We need you to go undercover as an SS3 student at Blossom High. We have intelligence suggesting ongoing criminal activity within the school."
"And how exactly would that work?" I ask.
"You look younger than your age," she says casually. "You're academically qualified. And you've been in secondary school recently enough for this to be believable."
She pauses.
"So," she says. "What do you say?"
I stare at the table.
"...Sure," I sigh.
"Wonderful," she says, already standing. "We'll brief you on the way."
I rise with her.
It really is just like the movies-cold smiles, quiet threats, and people who destroy lives without raising their voices.
And I can't believe I'm getting dragged into it too.
And that's how I ended up standing at the gate of Blossom High.
In SS3.
Again.