Adaora, a brilliant yet self-doubting programmer from Ifo, Nigeria, faces the harsh realities of life when her mother falls ill. Armed with exceptional tech skills but struggling with low self-esteem, she ventures to a city in Lagos seeking for job...
The room felt stifling with the weight of what had just transpired, the air thick with silence. Tunde stood over Mide, the taste of bitter betrayal hanging in the air. His chest heaved with the remnants of anger, but his voice was cold, firm.
"Get out," he spat, his hands shaking, though whether it was from rage or something else, he couldn't tell. "If you don't leave now, I'll call the police. I don't ever want to see you again."
Mide, crumpled on the floor, looked up at his former friend, his eyes glazed with regret. He didn't even attempt to defend himself anymore. The guilt had settled in his bones, weighing him down like lead. Slowly, painfully, he picked himself up, his lips swollen from the punches and his heart even more bruised than his face.
"Tunde, I...I'm sorry," he managed, but his voice was hoarse, hollow. He knew it wasn't enough, that it could never be enough to repair the damage he had caused.
Tunde didn't respond. His jaw clenched tightly, his gaze hard, unmoving. Mide turned and stumbled toward the door, each step feeling like a lifetime. He hesitated at the threshold, glancing back one final time, hoping for something-anything-that might show Tunde's forgiveness. But there was nothing. The silence between them was final, like the closing of a book on their friendship.
The door clicked shut, and with it, the last piece of Tunde's trust in Mide was sealed away.
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For a long while, the house was quiet, so quiet that Tunde could hear the faint ticking of the clock on the far wall. He stood in the center of the room, staring blankly ahead, the rage that had fueled his actions slowly dissipating, replaced by something heavier-heartbreak. Once again, someone he had considered family had shattered the fragile trust he had placed in them. Mide wasn't just a colleague, he was a friend. Another person close to him who had torn his heart apart.
The silence was suffocating.
Tunde turned away from the empty space, his feet moving of their own accord toward the one place that always brought him some semblance of peace. The piano room.
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The large, cozy room was dimly lit, with soft golden light spilling from a lamp in the corner. The familiar scent of old sheet music and polished wood greeted him like an old friend. Tunde sat at the piano, the cool keys under his fingers feeling like home. He took a deep breath, and without thinking, his hands began to move, playing the melody that had always calmed his spirit, his favorite tune from childhood. Each note felt like a release, as though the music were pulling the pain from his heart and letting it float away into the air.
