129. The Lie That Stayed AliveNova

It happens on an ordinary afternoon.

That’s the cruel part, not the timing, not the shock, but the ordinariness of it. I’m seated at the small desk in my study, sunlight slanting through the curtains, my laptop open to emails and donor reports. Oti is in the kitchen arguing with a supplier on the phone. The house hums with life, Weston and Wesley are outside, arguing over a football, and Wenda is somewhere upstairs, humming to herself.

Normal. Safe. ...