Chapter 1
The aroma of frying eggs and brewing coffee drifted through the modest but well-kept three-bedroom flat in Surulere. Early morning light filtered through cream-colored curtains, casting warm patterns on family photos that lined the walls - snapshots of happier times, of a complete family of four, now reduced to three. Sophie stood at the gas cooker, expertly flipping an egg while simultaneously monitoring her brother's toast. At sixteen, she'd mastered the morning choreography of caring for her family. Her green and white school uniform was already perfectly pressed, her long braids neatly tied back with a ribbon that matched her school badge. "Dad!" she called out, "Your coffee's ready! Two sugars, no milk - just how you like it." Jared emerged from his room, already dressed in his crisp navy-blue KPMG suit, his tall frame carrying an air of quiet authority. His face softened seeing his daughter managing breakfast. "What would I do without my little woman?" he said, dropping a kiss on her forehead. "Probably starve," Sophie grinned, leaning into his embrace. These morning moments were their special time - before the weight of the day settled on their shoulders. "I heard that," came Joseph's sleepy voice as he shuffled into the kitchen, school tie hanging loose around his neck. At fourteen, he was all gangly limbs and perpetual bedhead. Sophie rolled her eyes. "Finally! The sleeping beauty awakens." "At least I don't spend hours braiding my hair," Joseph retorted, attempting to snatch a piece of toast. Sophie swatted his hand playfully. "Better than looking like a bush rat." "Children," Jared warned, but his eyes twinkled over his coffee cup. These morning squabbles had become their own form of comfort after their mother's passing - a way of maintaining normalcy. "Dad, will you check my Further Maths homework?" Sophie asked, settling at the table with her own breakfast. "There's this quadratic equation that's being stubborn." "Of course, sweetheart." Jared pulled his chair closer, their heads bent together over her notebook. His finger traced the equation, his deep voice explaining each step. This was familiar territory - numbers had always been their shared language. Joseph watched them, absently trying to knot his tie. "Nerds," he muttered fondly. "Says the boy who got distinction in Additional Science," Sophie shot back. "Speaking of school," Jared glanced at his Rolex - a reminder of his senior position at KPMG, "Sophie, don't you have that prefect meeting?" Sophie's eyes widened. "Oh! That reminds me..." She hurried to her school bag, meticulously organized as always. "This letter came yesterday. I'm so sorry, I was caught up with JAMB preparation and-" The moment she handed over the plain white envelope, something shifted in the kitchen's warm atmosphere. Jared's fingers trembled slightly as he took it, his accountant's eyes noting the lack of letterhead, the unfamiliar handwriting. As he read, Sophie watched the transformation with growing unease. First came the stillness - an unnatural freezing of his usual fluid movements. Then color drained from his face, leaving him ashen under his dark complexion. A bead of sweat rolled down his temple despite the morning cool. His hands began to shake, the paper rustling audibly in the suddenly silent kitchen. The loving father of moments ago disappeared, replaced by someone Sophie barely recognized. His jaw clenched, the muscle jumping erratically. When he tugged at his collar, she noticed his fingers trembling. "Dad?" she ventured quietly, "Are you okay?" He looked up, startled, as if he'd forgotten they were there. The smile he attempted was worse than any frown - a cracked mask that didn't reach his eyes. "Just work stuff," he managed, but his voice had lost its morning warmth. The letter disappeared into his inner suit pocket, but his hand kept touching it, like checking a wound. Joseph, quiet until now, asked directly: "Are you sure? You looked scared." "Nothing for you to worry about," Jared said too quickly, gathering his laptop bag with unsteady hands. "We should go. Third Mainland will be terrible." As they headed to the car, Sophie caught Joseph's eye. In three years since losing their mother, they'd never seen their father's perfect composure crack like this. Something about that letter had shaken him to his core, leaving hairline fractures in their carefully maintained family image. Sophie slid into the front seat, her usual spot as daddy's girl, but for the first time, she felt a distance that had nothing to do with physical space. In the rearview mirror, she saw Joseph's thoughtful frown, his artist's eyes missing nothing. Their father's hands gripped the steering wheel too tightly as they pulled out of the estate, leaving behind their morning sanctuary of coffee, homework, and simple familial love. Something had changed in that kitchen, as fundamentally as a shattered mirror that could never quite be pieced back together.
