Red Flag District S2.

FOLARIN’S P.O.V:

“Derin?”

“You’re back?” I asked.

A small laugh touched her voice. “That is usually what it means when someone calls from a Nigerian number.”

“Don’t start.”

“I haven’t started.”

I smiled before I could stop myself.

Behind me, I could feel the table watching. Seyi, especially. That idiot had probably leaned halfway out of his chair by now.

“When did you get in?”

“Last week.”

Last week.

Derin had been in Lagos for a week.

That should not have meant anything.

It meant something.

“And you’re back-back?” I asked.

“Yes,” she said. “Back-back.”

I nodded, even though she couldn’t see me.

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