She jumped down from the fender, ignoring the hands he automatically stretched out to help her down before he retreated them back, looking at her in a new light even as his fury boiled beneath the surface.

She faced him squarely with her arms crossed, advancing on him slowly. “So you want to talk? Oya na. Let’s talk. Where do you want to start? Let’s do it. Do all the talking you want today because, after today, you will never get to have this liberty with me again! Because we will be done! You, Bernard Babalola, and I will be done!” She thumped her fist into his chest, not knowing...