"She's perfect for the ritual," one said.
"Her beauty alone will guarantee his success for years," the other replied, laughing softly.
Adaora's glass slipped from her hand and shattered on the floor. The men turned to look at her, and she quickly bent down to pick up the shards, her hands trembling. She forced a smile, excused herself, and walked toward the kitchen.
Her heart pounded. They're talking about me.
In the kitchen, she leaned against the counter, struggling to steady her breath. Images of the shrine she had seen flashed through her mind—Emeka kneeling before the flickering candles, the bloodied objects laid out like an offering.
He's going to sacrifice me.
Adaora knew she had to act fast. She couldn't confront Emeka; he was too powerful. She needed to leave the mansion immediately, but escaping unnoticed would be nearly impossible with the guests and guards scattered around.
The Escape
Adaora hurried to the servants' quarters, her mind racing. She found Nneka, one of the housemaids who had been kind to her in the past.
"Nneka," she whispered urgently, gripping the young girl's hand. "I need your help. I have to leave this house now."