Rain had pounded the night before. It had drummed on the rusty tin roof of the old schoolhouse, drenching each step, each secret whisper. Laila crouched solitary at the window, watching the water slice its path across the glass like a road of vanishing remembrances. In her breast, a storm seethed that no rain could quench. The files had gone live. A team of free journalists had begun releasing the piece under her assigned title: *Ashes and Names*. It was already going around forums, discussed in activist groups through gossip, and examined by those who formerly did not dare say the names hidden in those documents. But fame brought cost. Already, two of their informants had gone silent. Tobi's secure servers had been breached three times in the last eight hours. And Kemi had intercepted a message coded, but clear. There was a bounty on Laila's head. "Someone inside the Brotherhood gave them the heads up," Tobi typed that morning, his fingers clacking on his keyboard. "They're moving quickly, more coordinated than we anticipated." Cassian leaned over his shoulder. "Re-encrypt the journal backup. Triple the firewalls." Yemisi walked in with two burner phones and a face that could cut stone. "We split into teams from now on. Laila, Cassian, you head east. Kemi and I head south." "No," Laila said. Her voice wasn't loud, but it carried weight. "We stay together. That's what Mira would've done." Yemisi turned slowly. "What Mira did got her killed." There was silence. Then Cassian stepped in. "We move for safety, not surrender. We'll regroup in three days." Reluctantly, Laila nodded. But inside, she felt the pull of something older than strategy; something closer to fire. Their secret base was an old disused medical facility hidden behind an abandoned gas station. Cassian had driven through darkness most of the way, his gaze flicking to mirrors repeatedly. "Why are you still helping me?" Laila asked once they were alone. He gazed at her. "Because I said I would." "To Mira?" He shook his head. "To myself." She did not insist on more. The silence between them was still present, but no longer empty. Something unspoken was forming there. Not love, not quite. But comprehension. A shared loss that each of them was not sure how to explain. Laila couldn't sleep. She paced the dim corridor of the clinic, her hand following cracked tiles and worn placards. And then she found it, a storage room Mira had described in her journal. Inside, between rusting cabinets and medicine, was a safe. Mechanical and ancient. Cassian appeared behind her. "You actually think she left something else behind?" "She was always two steps ahead." They worked in silence, breaking the combination. It wasn't brute force that opened the lock; it was memory. A date scribbled in Mira's journal. A name scribbled under a chair in her previous school. A code as plain as day. Click. Inside were additional papers. Not files this time, but blueprints. Photographs. A map with red circles and the words *Active Nodes*. "What are these?" Laila whispered. Cassian held up one blueprint. "Substations. Sites where Obasi performed other experiments." "They weren't spying on us," she said. "They were controlling people. Systems." And they still were. Back at the table, Laila studied the map. Each red circle was a city. A community. A life. "It's not about my mother anymore." Cassian nodded slowly. "This is national." She looked at the map until her eyes lost focus. Then she spoke, her voice clear. "We burn it all down." Three days later, they regrouped with Kemi and Yemisi in a small village on the outskirts of Enugu. Word had traveled ahead of them. People had begun to speak. One by one, those who had once been silenced came forward with testimonies. Teachers. Nurses. Ex-military officers. Even a former agent of Obasi's who carried burn scars as proof of betrayal. Laila stood in the middle of a room full of strangers, and for the first time, she didn't feel alone. "You don't have to follow me," she told them. "But I'm not staying silent anymore." A woman near the back raised her hand. "We've waited years for someone to say that out loud." Cassian watched her with a quiet pride. "She's not just speaking," he said to Yemisi. "She's building something." That night, Laila and Cassian sat on the stairs of the village chapel. The stars were out, frigid and bright. "Do you think she'd be proud of me?" Laila said. "Mira?" he said. "She would have feared for you first. Then fought beside you. She smiled faintly. "I miss her." "So do I." He dug into his pocket. A locket-it had been her mother's, retrieved from the first compound. A worn photograph inside. Mira is holding baby Laila. She took it cautiously. "She wanted you to live," Cassian said. "Not just survive." Laila looked up at the stars. "Then I will." The movement gained momentum. Encrypted networks lit up with support. Donations flowed in from anonymous sources. Testimonies doubled every week. And through it all, Ashes and Names remained the banner they carried forward. Obasi's network began to fracture. Some members were exposed. Others fled. A few turned themselves in, hoping for leniency in exchange for names. But Obasi himself remained hidden. Laila knew they would face him eventually. And when they did, it would not be quietly. It would be on fire.
