David stared at her as though the ground beneath him had just disappeared.
"What do you mean I don't remember?" he asked slowly, each word measured, controlled—but beneath it, something was unraveling.
Amara's heart pounded violently against her chest.
This was the part she never wanted to revisit.
The part she had buried so deep, she almost convinced herself it wasn't real.
"The night in Lagos," she said quietly.
David frowned immediately.
"I've been to Lagos hundreds of times," he replied, shaking his head.
Amara took a step closer, her voice soft but steady.
"No… this one was different."
A gust of cold wind passed between them, carrying the weight of what she was about to say.
"It was five years ago," she continued. "A charity gala. High-profile. You were there with investors."
David's eyes narrowed slightly.
"I remember the event," he admitted slowly. "But that's it."
Amara nodded.
"Exactly."
He frowned deeper.
"You don't remember what happened after," she said.
Silence.
David ran a hand through his hair, pacing slightly now.
"No," he admitted. "I left early that night… I think."
"You didn't just leave," Amara said quietly.
His movement stopped.
"You were drunk," she continued. "Not just tipsy. Completely gone. You could barely stand."
David's jaw tightened.
"You collapsed outside the venue," she said. "Everyone thought you were just another rich man who couldn't hold his liquor."
He let out a breath, frustration creeping in.
"And you?" he asked. "You just happened to be there?"
Amara hesitated.
"I was working the event," she admitted. "Temporary staff. I wasn't… who I am now."
David's expression flickered slightly.
"I saw you fall," she continued. "No one helped. They just… watched. So I did."
The silence grew heavier.
"I took you back to your hotel," she said.
David's eyes searched hers now, trying to find something—anything—that made this make sense.
"And then?" he asked quietly.
Amara's throat tightened.
Because this was the moment everything changed.
"You weren't yourself," she said slowly. "You kept talking… about your life, your struggles… things no one else would ever know."
David's breathing slowed.
"And that night…" she continued, her voice barely above a whisper.
"It happened."
Silence.
Heavy.
Unavoidable.
David stepped back, shaking his head.
"No… no, that doesn't make sense."
"I didn't even know who you were back then," Amara said. "Not really. You were just… someone I helped."
He paced again, faster now.
"And you're telling me that one night…" he started.
Amara nodded slowly.
"Yes."
David stopped moving.
"And the child?" he asked, his voice quieter now.
Amara's eyes filled with tears.
"I didn't even know how to find you," she said. "By the time I realized I was pregnant… you were gone."
The wind howled softly around them.
"I tried to move on," she added. "I tried to forget."
David let out a slow breath.
"And now?" he asked.
Amara swallowed hard.
"Now someone knows," she said.
As if summoned by her words—
Her phone buzzed again.
Both of them froze.
Slowly…
She looked down.
A new message.
Her hands trembled as she opened it.
"Now that the truth is out… should I tell him about the second child?"
Amara's blood ran cold.
"Second child?" David repeated, his voice sharp with confusion. "What is that supposed to mean?"
Amara shook her head instantly.
"No… no, that's not possible."
But deep down…
A terrifying thought began to form.
Because if someone had that photo…
What else did they have?
And how much did they really know?