The bullet in the box didn’t just rattle me—it woke something deeper. This wasn’t just a threat. It was personal. Someone knew where I was. Someone close. Someone I trusted. I sat on the edge of the bed, the weight of the cold metal bullet pressing into my palm, and felt the war shift. This wasn’t a battle of noise anymore. It was a game of shadows. --- The next morning, I moved quickly. Zina, Binta, the doctor who helped me—Dr. Folarin—and two other key allies from the justice movement… I gathered them in a private safe house. We needed
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