“Madam Mirabel?”
Jerry handed him the phone.
“Listen.”
The commissioner listened to the recordings. His face hardened with each passing second.
When they ended, he looked up.
“This is serious evidence.”
Jerry nodded.
“I want this handled legally. No cover-ups. No scandal management.”
Commissioner Bello nodded.
“We move now.”
Mirabel’s breathing quickened.
Jerry held her hand.
Together they walked toward the waiting vehicles.
As Jerry got into the car beside her, his phone buzzed again.
A message from Madame Hannah.
My son, come home tonight. We need to talk about your future.
Jerry stared at the words.
His expression darkened.
“Yes,” he whispered. “We will talk.”
The convoy started moving.
Destination: the Okafor mansion.
Where a mother waited peacefully, never imagining that her dead daughter-in-law was coming back alive—with the law.
The gates of the Okafor mansion opened slowly.
Too slowly.
Jerry noticed it at once.
The security guard hesitated before pressing the button. His eyes shifted from Jerry’s SUV to the police vehicles behind it and back again.
Fear flashed across his face.
Jerry’s jaw tightened.
Something in him whispered:
She already knows.
The convoy rolled into the compound.
The mansion stood tall and beautiful under the evening sky. White walls glowing under soft lights. Fountains murmuring. Palm trees swaying. Everything looked peaceful.
This was home.
The house where Jerry grew up.
