Immediately Prisca got out of the car, she looked around the neighborhood with curiosity. Somehow this didn't look like a place someone like Eric would be living. It just didn't fit in with the picture of Eric she had in her mind's eye. Yeah, she knew about the fake life of many Lagos big boys pretending to be what they were not, but definitely not Eric. From the start he had never pretended or bragged about being rich or anything, but he gave off the vibes naturally. She had been around many rich people to know how confident and authoritative they could be even without trying.
She walked over to the shop in front of the building which had the address Kimberly had given her. A dark colored middle-aged lady was seated on a bench in front of the shop plucking vegetables, "e Kaasan ma (Good afternoon ma)." She greeted, bending one knee forward as was typical with yorubas.
