Chapter 2 - THE MESSAGE FROM THE MISSING GIRLRita stood beside the road, staring at Amanda's message.
Cars rushed past her.
A street vendor called out to customers. Somewhere nearby, a motorcycle horn sounded repeatedly.
But Rita barely heard any of it.
Amanda was alive.
After weeks of uncertainty, prayers, and unanswered phone calls, the girl who had vanished from Mr. Andrews's mansion had finally reached out.
Rita immediately typed a reply.
Amanda, thank God! Where are you? Are you safe? What happened to your baby?
She pressed send.
The message remained undelivered.
Rita tried calling.
The phone was switched off.
Her stomach tightened.
"Please, Amanda," she whispered. "Please be okay."
A taxi pulled up.
Rita climbed inside and gave the driver the address her mother had sent.
Felicia was staying at a small apartment belonging to an old friend in Ikeja.
Throughout the journey, Rita kept staring at her phone.
She remembered Amanda vividly.
They had met nearly two years earlier at a charity event organized by Chief Benedict's business foundation.
Amanda had been helping serve refreshments.
She was quiet, polite, and unusually hardworking. While other girls her age chatted excitedly about clothes and relationships, Amanda spoke about becoming a doctor.
Rita had liked her immediately.
They had exchanged numbers and gradually become friends.
Later, when Amanda started working in Mr. Andrews's home while trying to save money for her education, Rita occasionally visited.
At first, Amanda seemed happy.
She often spoke about James Andrews with a shy smile.
But things changed when Lucia discovered how close they had become.
Amanda stopped answering some calls.
Her messages became shorter.
Whenever Rita asked whether everything was okay, Amanda insisted she was fine.
Then came the rumors.
Amanda was pregnant.
Lucia had humiliated her.
Amanda's own mother, Ngozika, had rejected her when she needed help.
And finally, she disappeared.
Rita had searched everywhere she could think of.
Now Amanda had contacted her, only to vanish again.
When Rita arrived at the apartment, Felicia rushed to embrace her.
"My daughter!"
Rita dropped her suitcase and held her mother tightly.
They cried together.
For years, Felicia had hidden her marital problems from Rita. She had endured Chief Benedict's arrogance, his affairs, and his constant complaints about not having a son.
She had stayed because she believed keeping the family together was her duty.
But watching her husband slap their daughter had destroyed the last excuse she had for remaining.
Felicia pulled Rita into the sitting room.
"You shouldn't have left your studies because of me."
Rita shook her head.
"I didn't leave my studies, Mommy. I left Daddy's house."
"But your tuition—"
"We'll figure something out."
Felicia looked at her daughter with sadness.
"I'm sorry."
"Mommy, please don't apologize for Daddy's behavior."
Felicia covered her face.
"I should have protected you sooner."
Rita gently removed her mother's hands.
"You protected me for twenty-two years. Now we need to protect each other."
For a while, they sat together in silence.
Then Rita remembered the message.
"Mommy, Amanda contacted me."
Felicia sat upright.
"Amanda? The young woman who disappeared?"
Rita showed her the messages.
Felicia read them carefully.
Her expression changed.
"Rita, we need to take this seriously."
"I know."
"Did she tell you where she is?"
"No. Her phone went off."
Felicia thought for a moment.
"Don't share her messages with the Andrews family yet. She clearly believes she's in danger."
Rita nodded.
"But James has been looking for her everywhere."
"That doesn't mean Amanda is ready to see him."
Felicia's words stayed with Rita.
For the first time, she considered that finding Amanda might not be the same as rescuing her.
Perhaps Amanda had disappeared because nobody had listened when she begged to be left alone.
Meanwhile, across Lagos, James Andrews sat in his bedroom staring at an old photograph.
In it, Amanda was standing beside him in his father's garden.
She wore a simple blue dress.
Her smile was genuine.
He remembered the afternoon they had taken the photograph.
She had been telling him about medical school.
"One day," she had said, "I want to open a clinic where poor women can receive treatment without being embarrassed because they don't have money."
James had laughed affectionately.
"That's an expensive dream."
Amanda had smiled.
"Then I'll have to work very hard."
Now the photograph made him feel sick.
When his mother started mistreating Amanda, he had confronted her more than once.
But he hadn't done enough.
He had believed he could eventually persuade Lucia to change.
He had believed Amanda would be safe while he arranged a place for them to live.
He had believed there would be time.
Then Amanda disappeared.
James opened the bottom drawer of his desk.
Inside was a small jewelry box containing an engagement ring.
He had planned to propose before everything collapsed.
A quiet knock interrupted him.
Mr. Andrews entered.
"James, we need to talk."
James looked up.
"Have you found anything?"
His father hesitated.
"I received a call from the private investigator."
James stood immediately.
"Where is she?"
"He hasn't found Amanda."
James sat down again.
"But he found something else."
Mr. Andrews placed a brown envelope on the desk.
"These are records from the night Amanda left."
James opened it.
Inside were photographs from the mansion's security cameras.
One showed Amanda leaving through the rear gate with a small bag.
Another showed a dark vehicle waiting across the street.
James examined the second photograph.
His face changed.
He recognized the license plate.
"Dad..."
Mr. Andrews leaned forward.
"What is it?"
May you like
James looked at him in disbelief.
"That car belongs to someone we know."
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