LIANA'S POV

The streetlights fuzzed as I drove. My fingers wrapped tighter than they had to around the steering wheel, but I didn't care. Dominic hadn't called. No text. Not a single missed call. Nothing.

And really? That hurt worse than I anticipated.

I knew that he was proud. I had known that he had always felt the world would revolve on his whim. But that he could sleep beside me one night, betray me the next and not even be bothered enough to ask where I went?

That was what shattered me all over again.

I rolled into the driveway of my childhood house at a little past 10 PM. The porch light was still on, most probably because my mom was still watching "Sam and Cat" on Nickelodeon. I turned my headlights off, and for an instant, I simply sat there staring at the house.

The house where I had witnessed my first heartbreak, my first scraped knee and my awkward adolescence. And here I was today, an adult woman, crawling back with nothing but a dead phone battery and a bruised ego.

I got out of the car and hadn't even reached the first step before the front door opened.

"Mommmmeeeee!"

A tiny blur with puffy pigtails and dinosaur pajamas came running towards me.

"Whoa!" I just managed to duck in time, catching her mid air as she tackled me in a hug. Her little arms wrapped around my neck like a vice, and I inhaled the scent of bubblegum shampoo and graham crackers.

"You flyin'?" she asked, peering at my face.

"I was flying?" I grinned. "No, you were flying. Are you trying to knock Mommy over?"

Camilla's brows furrowed, her face serious. "You take long."

"I know, baby. I'm sorry, but I'm here now."

She shifted back a little, looking at me through narrowed eyes, then poked my cheek with a chubby finger. "You crying? You cry?"

My throat closed up. "No. Not anymore."

She tilted her head, not believing me. "You look… sad."

I smiled gently, wiping at my eyes. "Just tired, pumpkin."

"Hmm…" she looked me over, then said with all the wisdom of a two-year-old, "You need cookie."

"Do I?

She nodded, very sure. "And big blankie. The one with pink stars."

"Wow. Aren't you a therapist sweetie?" I asked, kissing her.

She smiled, proudly, then scrunched up her nose. "Mommy smell like fries."

"Excuse me?"

She placed her hand on my chest. "Fries. And mad…"

"Fries and mad?"

She nodded again. "You 'mell like mad fries."

I couldn't stop the laugh that bubbled up. "Okay. I'll see what I can do about that."

She crept up close and whispered, "We have cookies."

"Oh really?"

"But…" She touched her lips. "Gramma say, 'no eat when dark.' But I ate one. Shh." She brought her finger to her mouth, indicating to me to stay quiet.

My mom's voice came from the doorway. "Of course she rattled on herself."

I looked up, and there she stood, robe wrapped tightly, raised brows, crossed arms. Classic Mom stance.

“Hi, Mom," I said.

She waved towards the house. "You're gonna come in, or you wanna go have a melt down on the lawn first?"

"Inside," I muttered. "Yeah, definitely inside."

Camilla raised her hand. "Me too! I wanna tell inside!"

"You're just here for the cookies, honey" I said.

She gasped. "Nooo.I tell you mummy."

My mother rolled her eyes as she backed away. "Y'all are a mess.".

Camilla tugged on my hoodie as I entered behind my mom. "Mommy?"

"yeah?"

"You stay now?"

I hesitated. Knelt down. "Yeah, baby. I'm staying."

She held her arms around my neck again. "Good." Camilla grinned. "You're welcome."

By the time we had wrestled Cam into her unicorn-print comforter, the room had darkened and was snug. I sat on the edge of her bed, brushing a curl from her forehead.

She looked up at me and asked, "Mommy, did Daddy make you sad again?"

My breath stopped.

I looked into those big, wondering eyes and saw how little she actually understood, how I wished I could shield her from it all.

"Yes," I whispered. "But it's not your fault, okay? Nothing about this is your fault."

She leaned over and smacked me on the cheek like a miniature wise old grandma. "He's a booger head. You'd find superman one day."

I grinned through the pain. "I'll take it as a prophecy."

She yawned, bundling herself up in blankets. "Tell Superman I like waffles."

"Will do." I kissed her forehead. "I love you more than waffles.".

As I left the room and closed the door, my mom had already appeared in the hallway with two mugs in her hands. One of them was marked with my name. The other had the caption Wine Disguised as Tea.

I took the latter. "You know me too well."

"Sit," she said, motioning towards the couch. "Now tell me everything. And don't leave out the juicy stuff."

I collapsed into the cushions with a sigh, drinking a long draught. The tea was luke- warm, and comforting.

I glanced at the steam rising from the mug. "He cheated on me, again."

Silence.

"He returned home with his arm draped around another woman," I continued. "Lipstick on his collar. No apology. Only this smug, cold indifference.

That was our anniversary dinner but instead of fixing us, I spent it sitting across from him on the table and watching him have a good time with another woman."

My mom did not gasp and clutch her pearls. She leaned back and took a sip of tea. "Well, I'd say I'm shocked, but then I'd be a liar."

Tears stung at the backs of my eyes. "I thought we were okay. I thought we were getting better. I fought for us. I forgave him more than I should have. And he didn't even have the decency to honor our anniversary."

She reached out and took my hand. "Baby, you've always been the fire. He was just the smoke. You couldn't breathe around him, and you didn't even realize it until the room cleared."

I laughed, a sobbing, broken sound. "That was beautiful. Have you been reading Pinterest quotes again?"

"Maybe."

We sat there for a long time in silence. Just the two of us. Two generations of heartbreak, drinking lukewarm tea.

And she asked, "Are you staying here for a while?"

I nodded gradually. "Yeah. If you don't mind."

"Of course it's okay. I recently ventilated your room. And stocked your favorite ice cream when you were in the room with the princess. I also told the neighbor on my way in that I’ll need help with the garbage because my daughter is going through a detox.”

I laughed hard and full, the first time in days. "You're unbelievable."

"That's why you love me."

She stood and leaned down to kiss my forehead. "Now go to bed. You look like your soul's been in a street fight."

"It has."

"Then tell it to drink some water."

I climbed the stairs slowly, each step heavier than the last but my heart was just a little lighter.

By the time I reached my old room, I didn't even undress. I crawled onto the bed in my clothes, pulled blankets up over me, and curled into a ball. Just as I did when I was fifteen and heartbroken over some boy who didn't call me back.

But this time, it was not because I was unwanted, though. It was about finally walking away from someone who never deserved me in the first place.

LIANA'S POV

The sunlight filtered through the curtains, warm and golden, reaching the wooden wardrobe and the faded floral bedspread. It smelled of polish and stale fabric in here, I had missed my bedroom but until this morning, I hadn't realised that. .

I stood still for a moment and let myself be wrapped in the silence. I did not wish to stir. My body was heavier than usual but not with sleep. With memory.

I lay there, combing through what I still had left of Dominic and me. The good parts. The first apartment, furnished with dreams and too many mugs. His hand brushing against mine as we coded together in sync. Stolen kisses, whispered concepts, the way he would look at me as if I were a miracle.

Before everything went wrong.

Before the silence. Before promiscuity.

I still remember the meetings when he wouldn't even glance at me. The lunches when he would "forget" I was right beside him. The public praises he got alone for a project we developed together, AIra.

Our AI prototype. They'd once said it was revolutionary. Then, softly, they started saying it was his.

My chest tightened. I sat up and placed my feet on the chilled tile floor, grounding myself. This was no dream but I didn't feel like I was awake. I was in-between.

I was gone, but I wasn't gone. Not yet. Not really.

Later that morning, I headed to the back building of my mother's compound. Years earlier, it had been used as a storage shed, holding old furniture and appliances that had been left behind. But slowly and determindly, I cleaned it out, rewired it, and piece by piece, slowly, I made it my own.

My lab. It was not high-tech. Far from it.

But it held something valuable, my blueprints, my designs, my concepts.

My hope.

I went to stand by the hydraulic lift lamp I'd been working on, a prototype for the Z-Column Bed Line. I adjusted the wiring, and checked the movement. It moved just as I'd planned- smooth, responsive, and powerful.

This one was for comfort. For care. For people like Cam. For the people I didn't want to leave behind.

……….

A few days later, at lunchtime, I decided to tell my mom.

We were eating jollof rice and fried plantains— slightly charred, just the way she liked them. She'd always said it added flavor.

"Mama," I said, my voice softer than I intended.

She didn't lift her head, but I felt a hesitation. Fork suspended in the air.

"I've been speaking to someone, a contact. He's helping me get my relocation papers sorted."

Her fork clattered to her plate.

"I'm thinking of leaving. Maybe in a week or two."

Her eyes finally met mine, sharp and searching. "Is this safe? Real?"

"It is," I told her quickly. "His name is Keon. He's been working on getting a lab team established overseas. He added me on as a co-lead so the paperwork could get rushed through."

A long silence.

"And Camilla?"

"I haven't told her yet." I rubbed my palms down my thighs. "I will. Tonight.

Her tone was softer then. "You know she's grown up in this house. With me. This is home."

"I know. But I have to do this. I need this, Mama. I want more for her. And for me."

She nodded slightly. "Then tell her. She deserves that.

That evening, I walked into the living room to find Camilla sitting in the middle of a sea of blocks, dolls, and snack crumbs. Teddy was stuck in a paper cup with a plastic spoon taped to the side of it.

"Mama! Teddy's on a rocket ship!" she said proudly.

I laughed. "He's ready for liftoff, all right."

She smiled. My messy, curious, beautiful girl.

"Kam," I said, sitting down next to her. "Can I tell you something big?"

She nodded, still munching on a cracker.

"We're going on a big trip. On an airplane."

Her eyes widened. "A sky plane?"

"Yes, baby. A real one. We're going to live in a new place. Just the two of us."

She blinked, looking around the room. "Grandma too?"

I hesitated. "Not right away. But she'll visit. All the time. And we'll video call, and you can send her pictures."

Cam tilted her head to one side. "She will bring me pink cupcakes?"

“Pink cupcakes, blue cookies, all of it."

She grinned. "Okay! I go! But grandma pwomise to come!"

I held out my pinky. "Pinky promise."

She wrapped hers around mine and kissed it. "An' I bring Teddy."

"Of course. No space adventure is complete without him."

……….

Two days later, I was in the lab, sweating and soldering wires onto a circuit board. I was in the middle of it when my phone buzzed.

Keon: Flight confirmed. Next Friday. You're booked.

I stared at the screen.

It was real.

My body relaxed beneath the weight of itlrelief, excitement, fear, all crashing over me like a wave. I almost called out for my mom, but before I could, the screen on my work desk hummed to life.

Secure server online.

My heart missed a beat.

I moved toward it slowly, like in a dream.

Red Corp Private Server

Encrypted Simulation Log // Status: SUCCESSFUL SIMULATION EXECUTED

No. Way.

I blinked again, heart now pounding in my chest.

They used my code.

The AIra code. The part I implanted, my fingerprint had been triggered. They thought it was washed clean. They thought I was erased.

But the system recognized me.

And it passed. The simulation passed.

It worked. They had executed it.

Dominic must've thought I was out of the game. He must've thought I was somewhere crying, attempting to rebuild my life from scratch.

He had no idea I was waiting for when to strike.

I stepped back, the room tilting slightly around me, vision buzzing. My code has survived. And not just survived, it thrived.

I turned in the dimly lit room, the wires of my makeshift lab trailing along the floor, half-covered blueprints and half-soldered prototypes dotting every surface.

I had done it, I was getting out. We were getting out

This wasn't a victory. It was a reminder.

Dominic's empire now had one crack in it.

Me. But it wasn't enough.

Now that I knew my code was working, this was only the beginning.

The beginning of his downfall.

LIANA'S POV

By the time I was done setting up and ensuring that the code was up and running, I stepped out to break the news but the house was quiet when I emerged.

Mum was not there and Camilla was sleeping, balled up like a cinnamon roll on the couch, drooling on her favorite stuffed bunny. I didn't want to wake her up. I needed to express my happiness but a two year old wasn't going to suffer for that.

I waited, paced, stared at the clock a thousand times. When she finally opened the back door, rubbing her hands on her skirt and complaining about the curious neighbor's dog all over again, I almost grabbed her.

"Mum!"

She turned round sharply, having been startled. "Jesus, Liana. You almost killed me."

"I'm sorry, I just… Mum, It's done. I got a text from Keon. The flight is booked. I'm leaving next Friday."

Her eyes widened. "Wait, what?"

I nodded, suddenly breathless again. “Kion said everything's ready. The papers, the logistics, it’s all set. We’re leaving.”

Her mouth dropped open for a second. “Oh, thank you, God!” she exclaimed, pressing her palm to her chest. “Oh my God! Finally, Liana! Finally!”

She pulled me into a firm hug. I felt her chest heaving and falling fast, as mine was. Her voice was trembling. "God has done it. You can't even imagine how I've prayed. My daughter, after all you'vebeen through."

"I'm not done yet," I replied, beaming, eyes already moist. "There's more."

"What more?"

"The code. My code. Red Corp simulation succeeded. My code was accepted."

Her yell came close to waking Camilla.

“Shut up! No way! You're kidding."

"I promise I'm not. The system lit up green. Mum, it worked—the thing that kept bouncing back as a rejection? It worked.”

She grasped my face in her hands, her eyes wide and glassy with unshed tears. "Do you realize what this means? Do you realize what this means, Liana? Your long days are wrapping up, baby. All those late nights and prayers—they’re finally paying off. Things are about to get a lot better."

We laughed. We cried. We danced around the lounge like two teens who'd just won the lottery, barefoot on the tiles, spinning in each other’s arms while the early morning light slanted through the curtains. And right at that instant, a sleepy-eyed, squinty Camilla stumbled into the room.

"Mummy," she slurred, rubbing one eye with the back of her fist, "why you two dancing like party people?"

"Because," I bent to scoop her up, holding her warm little body close around my neck, "we have some news!"

Her arms dangled loosely around my shoulders like a sleepy sloth. "Is it pancake day?"

"No, baby. We're going on that trip I told you about."

"To the zoo?"

"Cam!” I shouted amidst gulps of laughter. “To another country."

That made her shine like a lantern. "Yay! I am going to make new friends."

“Yes, you will, darling,” I said, giving her a kiss on her chin before letting her go and turning back to Mum.

The moment she was out of my arms, she ran to the middle table, grabbed the jar of Nutella, and began unscrewing the lid while gazing at the TV remote.

"Camilla Grace!" Mum yelled just in time. "Don't you even think about putting peanut butter on the remote!"

"It's Nutella, grandma," Camilla said innocently.

"I don't care what it is. That remote is not your toast."

"But Mummy say Nutella is marvelous on weekdays!"

"I did not…" I paused, blinked. "Okay, I might have said that once."

"You said it twice," Camilla told me with a stern nod.

The chaos descended into laughter again. I scooped up Camilla as she laughed, tossing her lightly onto the pillow mountain on the couch. Her laughter flooded the room like sunlight.

"Fine, Moana," I told her, tickling her belly. "I'll let the Nutella on toast. Not the remote."

"I sorta like Moana," she laughed.

"I know, baby. We all do."

……….

It all happened very fast after that day. Papers were signed. I started clearing out the storage unit that was packed with old projects and prototypes. Mum packed, humming every now and then as she folded the clothes. Camilla dashed around the house, trying to pack all the crayons and toys in the world.

Amidst all this, I would catch Mum staring at me a lot. Like she was memorizing my face.

"Are you okay?" I asked her one evening as we folded Camilla's bedtime stories.

She smiled. "I'm just proud of you. You took the pain he gave you and made something out of it.".

That hit me harder than I had expected. I took her hand and grasped it. "I had to. For me. For her."

Friday came like a sneaky storm.

I didn't sleep well last night. Just lay in bed, holding Camilla's tiny hand, hoping she would remember all this when she grew up. The fight. The quiet battles. The kitchen dance with her grandma. The Nutella and the remote.

Mum dropped us at the airport that morning. The ride was a silent one, too many thoughts in all our minds. When we reached the terminal, she pulled over, spun around in her seat, and grasped my hand.

"I'll visit you," she said. "Always."

I nodded, eyes stinging. "I know."

"And take care of Moana."

"She's Camilla," I replied with a soft laugh. "Moana's her alter ego."

Mum smiled and gazed at Camilla, brushing a curl from her forehead. "Be good for your mummy. And no Nutella on anything except bread."

Camilla performed a sleepy thumbs-up. "I pinky promise."

And then it was time. The airport buzzed around us—announcements echoing, wheels clacking against tiles, the scent of brewed coffee and jet fuel heavy in the air. As I walked through the departure doors, Camilla clutched my hand firmly and whispered, "Mummy… does this country have pancakes?"

I smiled through the tears. "So many pancakes, baby."

And with that, we stepped forward.

Into a new life.