Part 8 – The Trap
I didn’t sleep that night. Not even for a minute.
That envelope — that single word STOP — felt like a threat.
But to stop meant surrender. And I was done letting fear win.
By morning, I had a plan.
Brian was in the kitchen, buttering toast like nothing in our lives was falling apart.
“I’ll be traveling to Nakuru for work,” I said casually.
He nodded, distracted, barely listening. “How long?”
“Just two days.”
He smiled — relieved. Maybe even excited.
“Good. You need a break.”
Little did he know… I wasn’t going anywhere.
That evening, I parked my car a few blocks away from the house and waited.
At exactly 7:46 p.m., Brian left — same hoodie, same calm face, same phone glued to his hand.
He drove toward the highway.
And I followed.
It felt like a movie, only this time I was the one holding the camera.
He stopped at Ridgeview Hotel.
I parked two cars behind him, keeping my head low.
He walked in like a man who belonged there. The receptionist smiled — she knew him.
A few minutes later, he disappeared down the corridor leading to the rooms.
I slipped into the lobby, pretending to be on a call.
“Excuse me,” I said to the receptionist. “I’m supposed to meet Mr. Otieno. Which room did he check into?”
She hesitated. “Um… he’s already with someone.”
My voice shook. “His wife?”
The receptionist blinked. “Yes. They came together earlier.”
I felt my stomach twist. “I just saw him walk in alone.”
Before she could respond, the elevator pinged open.
And that’s when I saw her.
A woman — same height, same build, same hairstyle.
She looked exactly like me.
For a second, I thought I was looking at my own reflection.
Then she turned… and smiled.
“Cynthia,” she said softly. “You shouldn’t be here.”
My heart stopped.
She knew my name.
And just like that, Brian appeared behind her.
His arm slid around her waist like muscle memory.
“Babe,” he said — looking straight at her.
Not me.
Her.
🔥 To be continued…
👉 Read Part 9 – The Recording