Web of Deception [ EDITING !!!]

Chapter 2

Osas' P.O.V

As I settled into my seat on the plane bound for Nigeria, a familiar unease crept over me. I tried to shake it off, but the memories were relentless. No matter how much time passed, flying always took me back to that day.

Six Years Ago

It had been two years since Seyi left for the UK, and the loneliness still clung to her like a shadow. She had made good friends at one of the best private universities in Nigeria, but none of them could fill the space he left behind.

Her family was flying first-class back to Nigeria after spending the summer in Paris. Before returning, she had stolen a week to visit Seyi in the UK. Still, it wasn't enough.

Her father had insisted on flying commercial instead of using their private jet. What a waste of money, she had thought.

The flight attendant's voice echoed through the cabin as she walked down the aisle, checking passengers' seatbelts.

"Ladies and gentlemen, please fasten your seatbelts. We are preparing for our final descent," she announced reassuringly.

"Finally back home!" her little brother squealed, barely containing his excitement. He was six then.

Yeah... home.

The calm hum of the engines shattered with a deafening explosion. The cabin trembled as a blast erupted from one of the wings.

Screams. Chaos. Terror.

Her little brother sobbed, his cries blending with the wails around them. She held onto him, whispering reassurances she didn't believe. Their father tried to calm them, but she could hear the tremor in his voice.

Then, the plane lurched violently downward.

"Good evening, everyone. We are making an emergency landing." The pilot's voice barely carried over the panic.

God help us.

The last thing she remembered was her mother's voice. Then, darkness.

When she woke up, blinding white light filled her vision.

Am I in heaven?

Footsteps. Murmurs.

"She's alive," a male voice whispered.

She tried to move, but her body felt foreign. Tubes covered her—her mouth, her arms, everywhere. A wave of panic surged through her.

Why am I in a hospital?

And that's when she realized—

She didn't remember anything.

Not her name. Not her family. Not how she got there.

The heart monitor beeped wildly as her breath quickened. A man, the doctor, leaned in. "Relax," he said gently.

Relax? I don't even know who I am.

Two Weeks Later

The doctors were worried about her memory loss. She was seeing a physiotherapist for her right leg, which had been severely injured, requiring a metal implant. But worse than the leg was the scar—a hideous, jagged mark that ran from her back up to her neck. A constant reminder of something she couldn't remember.

Dr. Marx, her neurologist, was concerned about her hallucinations. Every time she tried to recall her past, shadows lurked at the edges of her mind—visions of things that weren't real, whispers of a life she had lost.