My Name Is Already Inside

“My name…?”

Amara’s voice came out dry.

Almost empty.

She stared at the phone in Femi’s hand, her eyes scanning the screen again and again like it would change.

But it didn’t.

Her full name.

Clear.

Bold.

Attached to a file she had never seen in her life.

“This is not real,” she said.

But her voice didn’t carry confidence.

Femi didn’t argue.

“This is what they have,” he said quietly.

Amara shook her head slowly.

“No. No, this is fake. This is something you created.”

Femi’s expression didn’t change.

“You think I’d go through all this just to show you something fake?”

“Yes!” she snapped. “You’ve already done worse!”

That landed.

But he didn’t react emotionally.

Instead, he stepped closer.

“Look properly,” he said.

Amara hesitated.

But her eyes went back to the screen.

There were details.

Dates.

Time stamps.

Access logs.

Her login ID.

Her system usage.

Her chest tightened.

“I don’t remember any of this,” she whispered.

“You don’t have to,” Femi replied. “That’s the point.”

Her heart skipped.

“What does that mean?”

“It means someone used your access.”

Silence.

Amara’s breathing became uneven.

“That’s what Tobi said,” she muttered.

Femi nodded slowly.

“Of course he did.”

She looked up at him.

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“It means he’s feeding you just enough truth,” Femi said. “To control the story.”

Amara’s head spun.

“I don’t understand anything again.”

Femi ran his hand over his face briefly.

Then looked at her again.

“Listen to me carefully.”

She didn’t respond.

But she didn’t look away either.

“This case,” he continued, “they don’t actually care who did it.”

Amara frowned.

“What?”

“They just need someone it can stick to.”

Her stomach dropped.

“No…”

“And right now,” Femi added quietly, “everything points to you.”

Silence.

The air felt heavy.

Too heavy.

“That’s not possible,” Amara whispered.

“You saw the file.”

“That doesn’t mean anything!”

“It means everything.”

Her chest tightened painfully.

“Why would they use me?” she asked. “What did I do?”

Femi held her gaze.

“You were accessible.”

That word hit deep.

“You were close to me. You had access. You trusted easily.”

Each word felt like a cut.

“And now,” he continued, “you’re the perfect fall person.”

Amara stepped back slowly.

Her mind racing.

Her emotions clashing.

“I didn’t do anything,” she said again.

But this time…

It sounded like she was trying to convince herself.

Femi softened his voice slightly.

“I know.”

“You keep saying that.”

“Because it’s true.”

“Then why should I trust you?”

Femi paused.

That question mattered.

“I’m not asking you to trust me,” he said finally.

Amara blinked.

“Then what are you asking?”

“I’m asking you to look at the situation logically.”

She almost laughed.

“Logic? In all this madness?”

“Yes.”

He stepped closer again.

“Two people are telling you different stories.”

Amara swallowed.

“You and Tobi.”

Femi nodded.

“So ask yourself… who benefits from what?”

Silence.

That question lingered.

Dangerous.

Uncomfortable.

“If I’m lying,” Femi continued, “then I gain nothing. You already hate me.”

That was true.

“But if he’s lying…”

He didn’t finish.

He didn’t need to.

Amara’s chest tightened again.

Because she understood.

“If he’s lying,” she said slowly, “then he’s using me.”

Femi nodded once.

“Exactly.”

Her mind flashed back.

Tobi knowing her name.

Tobi watching her.

Tobi pushing her to get close to Femi again.

Her heart skipped.

“Why would he do that?” she asked quietly.

Femi’s voice dropped.

“Because you’re useful.”

That word again.

Useful.

Amara felt sick.

“I’m not a tool,” she said.

“I know.”

“Then why does everybody sound like they want to use me?”

Femi didn’t answer.

Because there was no easy answer.

Silence filled the room again.

Then Amara asked the question that had been building inside her.

“If I don’t help you…”

Femi looked at her.

“What happens?”

He didn’t hesitate this time.

“They’ll build the case.”

Her chest tightened.

“They’ll connect everything.”

Her breathing slowed slightly.

“And when they’re ready…”

A pause.

“…they’ll come for you.”

Amara’s heart pounded.

“Come for me how?”

Femi held her gaze.

“Officially.”

That one word carried weight.

Heavy weight.

Amara swallowed hard.

Her hands slightly shaking now.

“And if I help you?”

Femi’s expression turned serious.

“Then we flip it.”

“How?”

“We expose what’s really going on.”

Her head spun again.

“And you’re sure you’re not the one behind it?”

Femi didn’t smile.

Didn’t joke.

Didn’t deflect.

“No.”

That answer came clean.

Direct.

But was it true?

Amara didn’t know anymore.

Her phone vibrated again.

She didn’t need to check.

She already knew who it was.

Tobi.

Waiting.

Watching.

Her lifeline.

Or…

Another problem.

Femi noticed.

“He’s texting you, right?”

Amara didn’t answer.

Femi nodded slowly.

“Of course.”

Silence.

Then he said quietly,

“Ask him about the file.”

Amara frowned.

“What file?”

Femi pointed at the phone in his hand.

“This one.”

Her heart skipped.

“Ask him if he’s seen it.”

Amara hesitated.

“And if he says yes?”

Femi’s eyes locked onto hers.

“Then ask him why he didn’t show you.”

Silence.

That question hit deep.

Because if Tobi had seen it…

Why didn’t he tell her?

Amara’s chest tightened again.

Her trust…

Shaking.

Cracking.

Breaking slowly.

She looked at Femi.

Then at the phone.

Then back at Femi again.

Her voice came out low.

“If I walk out of this room now…”

A pause.

“…who is actually on my side?”

Femi didn’t answer immediately.

Then he said quietly,

“That depends on who you choose to believe.”

Amara’s heart pounded loudly in her chest.

Because that was the problem.

She didn’t know who to believe anymore.

Not Tobi.

Not Femi.

Not even her own judgment.

And that…

That was the most dangerous place to be.

To be continued…