Till Death Do Us Part
Episode 4: Shadows Never Die
Enugu Specialist Hospital – 3:12 AM
It was supposed to be an ordinary shift for sergeant Charles, assigned to Ifeanyi Eze’s hospital room. He had been standing watch for almost 6 hours — eyes glued to the corridor, head bobbing in and out of light sleep. His partner had stepped out to pee.
What Charles didn’t know was that the night had other plans.
Someone who pretended to be a nurse in green scrubs knocked softly and entered the room. The dim light flickered.
She approached Ifeanyi, now sitting up weakly, a bandage strapped across his shoulder. He looked half-dead.
The nurse checked the IV line, then leaned in and whispered in his ear:
“We’re ready.”
Ifeanyi’s weak eyes flared open.
Suddenly, a muffled pop—Charles dropped to the floor as the blow on the back of his head registered.
Two more men burst in—one wearing a lab coat, the other in a male nurse uniform. One had a concealed pistol. The other dragged in a wheelchair.
They dressed Ifeanyi up, strapped him in the chair, and wheeled him out through a rear corridor. No alarms. No resistance.
By the time the other officer returned, the room was empty.
By Morning – Enugu CID HQ
The Commissioner’s voice thundered across the conference room.
“How can a high-profile suspect escape from a guarded hospital bed?!”
Ngozi, red-eyed and tense, stood silently.
“It’s either your officers are compromised or your entire unit is sleeping! The media is already on it — ‘Ifeanyi Eze Vanishes Again’! What are we running here? A police force or a circus?”
Ngozi clenched her fists as she remembered the phone call she earlier had with him. “He had help. And not from small boys. Someone up the chain wants him out of the picture.” he managed to mutter without accusing anyone
“Then find him!” the Commissioner roared.
Three Days Later – Obinna’s Apartment
Nkiru hadn’t stepped out since the escape.
Every sound outside made her flinch.
She double-locked all the doors. She peeked through windows before stepping into the kitchen. Her wedding dress hung like a ghost in the corner of the bedroom. Untouched.
Obinna walked in from the veranda. His face was tired, beard rough, eyes hollow.
“Nkiru,” he said gently, “you can’t keep hiding.”
She turned, arms crossed. “He’s out there, Obinna. You didn’t see his face. You don’t know what he’s capable of.”
Obinna moved closer. “Yes, I do. And I also know you’re not the same woman anymore. You’ve changed.”
She didn’t speak.
“Ever since we got back from the station, it’s like you’re not here. You don’t talk. You don’t eat. You don’t look me in the eye. I don’t even know if I’m your husband… or your roommate.”
Nkiru finally looked at him.
“I’m trying,” she said. “But how do you expect me to be normal after being dragged out of my wedding, tied like an animal, and nearly shot? After watching my past come alive like a nightmare?”
Obinna lowered his head.
“I just want us to get back to… us.”
“I don’t know who ‘us’ is anymore,” she whispered.
Later That Evening – Family Visit
Obinna’s mother arrived unexpectedly, carrying a cooler of ofe akwu and rice.
“Nkiru,” she said warmly, hugging her. “You’re strong. You hear me? Stronger than anything that man tried to break.”
Nkiru smiled faintly, grateful. At least her husband and his family were still there for her. Most men would have ended everything for even something less than this.
Mama sat beside her, looked her in the eye.
“My daughter, I won’t lie — this situation no be small thing. But marriage… marriage no dey perfect. It’s in times like this you either build, or you break. So ask yourself — is there still love?”
Tears formed in Nkiru’s eyes.
“Yes,” she said. “But there’s also fear.”
“Then start with the love,” Mama replied. “The fear will learn to fear it.”
Enugu – Small Duplex in Emene, 11:45 PM
Ifeanyi, now in a black tracksuit, limped into the sitting room. Bandaged and angry, he tore off the gauze and faced the men around him.
“We’re not done,” he growled. “This is just intermission.”
“Boss, you dey craze?” Smally asked, lighting a cigarette. “Dem don plaster your face for every TV. We suppose lie low.”
“I want her to see me,” Ifeanyi hissed. “I want her to know I’m still watching.”
“You still love am?”
Ifeanyi turned slowly.
“No. I just want her to feel the same helplessness I felt… the moment she said, ‘I don’t love you anymore.’”
A Week Later – Counseling Office, Enugu GRA
Obinna and Nkiru sat on opposite ends of a couch in a small counseling room. The therapist, a middle-aged woman with calm eyes, folded her hands.
“Tell me, Obinna,” she began, “why haven’t you walked away?”
He swallowed. “Because I meant my vows. And because deep down, I believe this pain is temporary.”
She turned to Nkiru. “And you? Why haven’t you left?”
Nkiru stared out the window. Her voice cracked.
“Because I don’t want Ifeanyi to win. I don’t want fear to steal what we’ve waited for.”
The therapist nodded. “Then we have a starting point.”
Ngozi’s Office – 7:15 PM
Ngozi stood by the window, watching rain streak down the glass. Her phone buzzed.
A message from an unknown number:
“You can’t catch a shadow. Focus on bigger criminals, madam detective.”
—Togo.
She smiled faintly, then turned to her corkboard.
“Not yet, Ifeanyi. But you’ll slip.”
To Be Continued in Episode 5:
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