Even the strongest get tired.
That night, Ifyoma left the mansion without telling anyone, needing a place to breathe and cry without being judged. She wiped a tear from her cheek and looked down at the dark city below, feeling the weight of the world on her small shoulders.
At the main entrance far below, a young security guard named Tunday Badmus adjusted the sleeves of his cheap red uniform. He looked up at Adaku Holdings, the tall glass building reflecting the soft orange light of the rising sun like a giant mirror. His back hurt from the long night shift, but he stayed alert. His job was simple: watch, guard, report. Nothing exciting, nothing like what he dreamed of when he graduated top of his class two years earlier.
Tunday had a first-class degree in business administration, a sharp mind for solving complex problems, and a heart that believed hard work would pay off. But in the real world, dreams meant little without powerful connections.
He yawned, glanced up again, and froze.
At the very edge of the rooftop, he saw a young woman standing too close, looking fragile and alone.
His heart began to race.
“No, please no,” he whispered, running toward the emergency stairs.
He did not know her, but that did not matter. All that mattered was stopping her before something terrible happened.
His boots slammed against the metal steps, the sound echoing through the empty stairwell as he ran upward. Every second mattered. His lungs burned, but he kept going, imagining the wind pulling at her clothes.
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