“How much?”
“Fari.”
“How much?”
“Twelve million naira.”
Fari looked at his sister.
“You stole twelve million?”
Tami answered immediately.
“No.”
“I moved funds temporarily.”
“Without authority.”
“Yes.”
“I returned every naira.”
Fari looked toward his father.
“And you buried it.”
Dapo’s voice lowered.
“She had just married into Deji’s family.”
“There were consequences beyond her.”
“That is not an answer.”
“I protected my daughter.”
Fari laughed without humor.
“No.”
“You taught everybody in this room that rules could be negotiated if the surname was important enough.”
Kunle smiled faintly.
“There.”
“That is the family I know.”
Dapo looked toward him.
“That does not excuse you.”
“No.”
“But perhaps it explains why I stopped respecting your rules.”
The truth became uglier.
Kunle’s access logs placed his credentials near the modification.
A shell vendor’s administrator admitted creating false supporting invoices.
Another former employee confirmed Kunle had demanded access to transaction files after Toby’s suspension.
Yet something still did not fit.
Tami.
She had recommended Toby.
Asked him to approve the original amount.
Then remained almost completely silent while he was dismissed as a thief.
Fari confronted her.
“You knew.”
“No.”
“When?”
“Not before the payment.”
“When did you know the forty-two million had been altered?”
Tami looked away.
“When?”
“Two days after Toby was suspended.”
Fari stared at her.
“Two days.”
“I found an access log.”
“And said nothing.”
Tami’s eyes filled.
“Kunle came to my office before I could report it.”
“What did he have?”
She did not answer.
Dapo suddenly understood.
“No.”
Tami looked at her father.
Fari noticed.
“What?”
Dapo said:
“This has nothing to do with the fraud.”
Kunle’s voice from the doorway answered:
“It had everything to do with her silence.”
Fari turned.
Kunle smiled without warmth.
“Ask your sister about Kede.”
Nkiru learned the next truth anonymously.
A video arrived from an unknown number.
No message.
Just a file.
Security footage.
Abuja.
Five years earlier.
Six months after Nkiru and Toby’s wedding.
Toby entered a hotel lift.
Twenty minutes later, he stepped onto the eleventh floor.
The timestamp advanced.
Another camera showed him entering a suite.
Nkiru recognized the woman who opened the door.
Tami Akinwale.
Toby remained inside for fifty-seven minutes.
Nkiru watched the video three times.
When Toby came home that evening, she placed the phone on the table.
“Who sent you this?”
“Wrong question.”
“Nkiru.”
“Six months after our wedding.”
Toby closed his eyes.
“Nothing happened.”
“You entered your former fiancée’s hotel suite.”
“Yes.”
“Alone.”
“Yes.”
“After marrying me.”
“Yes.”
“And somehow I am supposed to find comfort in honesty arriving five years late.”
“Nkiru.”
“Why were you there?”
Toby stood very still.
“She called me.”
“I can see that.”
“She needed to tell me something privately.”