e city lights filtering through sheer curtains behind

She wasn't the socialite Lagos adored, and certainly not the w

was

s terr

as...

oman on fire. A week of silence. A week of watching Lagos gossip blog

nde rea

hite agbada, clean kaftan, expensive cologne, a politician's confidence. The way

ling her into a side hug.

hat never touched her

the rebel girl?" he asked,

dn't flin

"You know Lago

hampagne. "Lagos

hat kind of w

head. "And what

rows away everyth

o, Tunde. I'm the kin

e walk

out of th

ht int

ght t

-

ike someone who'd both expected

red at e

racked. "I can't

ve. "You came he

e here to

ay. She reached up, touched Adaeze's c

she kis

ful. Like

idn't pu

ssed h

nocked walls down and built new ones all at once. A kiss

apart, they were

"I don't care wh

agos always thinks. But lo

make love

tal

's childhood crush on her female boarding school senior, the way Adaeze once

b said. "Until I met you. And then it was

ispered,

gossip. But inside that room, there was only still

-

id what Lag

the blogs ha

ith Her 'Queer Collaborator.' Evi

opped photos. A

nt sectio

hame

ration has

was something

alone, let

out time someone d

hone

mo

dn't a

ang

oz

eclin

phone off and t

living for t

lose. "Then let's l