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✨ Dear Eva – Episode 4: "The First Crack"
> "Dear Stan,
Why do I feel safe with you when I barely know you? Is it your silence… or is it the way you look at me like I'm not a thing to own—but a person to understand?"
I couldn't sleep last night.
Not after the way Kingsley looked at us in the hallway. His eyes weren't just cold—they were calculating. I've seen those eyes before. On men who think a woman's "no" is just the start of a negotiation. And this time, I wasn't just scared of losing my job.
I was scared of losing myself.
But today, I decided not to let fear run me. I wore my boldest lipstick and walked into work like I didn't have a single worry—even though my heart was beating like it was trapped in a cage.
Stan was already at the linen desk. He nodded when he saw me, and I smiled, though it didn't quite reach my eyes.
"Hey," I said, standing beside him. "Sorry about yesterday."
"For what?" he asked, not looking up.
"For dragging you into… my mess."
He paused, looked at me then, eyes steady. "It's not your mess, Eva. He made it one."
The way he said my name—it didn't feel like a line. It felt like a hand being held out in a dark room.
"I didn't tell him anything," I said quickly, remembering Kingsley's sharp tone.
"You don't owe me that," Stan replied. "But you should be careful."
There it was again. That word. Careful.
But careful didn't pay hospital bills. Careful didn't feed my two siblings or keep Mama from crying at night over unpaid rent. Still, for some reason, I believed Stan when he said it.
I wanted to ask him more—where he came from, why someone like Kingsley would call him "like a brother"—but the bell rang. A guest needed towels on the third floor. We both moved.
Hours passed, guests came and went, the scent of bleach and expensive perfume mixing in the air. At 3 PM, I took my break, sat in the staff kitchen, and opened my phone. Ten missed calls from Mama. I called back immediately.
"Eva!" she cried. "They're threatening to discharge your father. We still owe N83,000!"
My hands trembled.
"I'll find a way, Mama. Please… don't cry. I'll call you back."
I hung up and stared at my screen like it held the answer. There was only one person I knew who could help me fast. But accepting anything from Kingsley now would feel like selling my soul.
A knock on the door.
It was Stan.
"You okay?"
I tried to smile. Failed.
"My dad… he's still in the hospital. We owe money. A lot."
He didn't offer me pity. Didn't say sorry. Instead, he stepped in, pulled a chair, and sat.
"I can loan you something," he said quietly. "Just until you sort things out."
I looked at him like he'd spoken another language.
"You just started this job. How do you even have—?"
"I used to work somewhere else before this. Left with some savings. You can pay me back later."
"Why would you do that for me?"
He didn't blink. "Because people helped me when I had no one. That's how I got here."
I was stunned into silence. I didn't even know his surname.
"I don't want to put you in trouble," I whispered.
"You're not."
I hesitated, then nodded.
"Thank you," I said, voice thick. "Really."
He stood. "Transfer details?"
I scribbled it on a napkin and handed it to him, feeling something unfamiliar blooming in my chest—hope.
But hope has a way of making you forget that storms don't give warnings.
That evening, I was walking out of the staff hallway when I heard raised voices. I slowed.
"…I told you not to get involved!" Kingsley's voice.
"I just gave her a loan. That's all," Stan replied, calm.
"You think I'm stupid?" Kingsley hissed. "I see the way you look at her. You think you can just walk in here and take what's mine?"
"She's not yours," Stan said, firm. "She's a human being."
A beat of silence.
Then a crash—something slammed against the wall.
I rushed around the corner.
Stan stood there, face calm but fists clenched. Kingsley was glaring at him, chest rising and falling like he'd just run a mile.
"Is this how you run your hotel?" Stan asked him coldly. "By threatening your staff?"
Kingsley stepped closer. "Watch yourself, Stan. You don't know who you're messing with."
"I think I do," Stan replied. "And I'm not scared."
Kingsley looked at me then. "You'll regret this, Eva."
He turned and stormed off.
I didn't even realize I was holding Stan's arm until he turned to me.
"Are you okay?" I asked, breathless.
"I should be asking you that."
"I'm used to his temper," I whispered.
"You shouldn't have to be," he said.
And then he did something unexpected.
He touched my face—just a gentle, quick gesture, like brushing away a shadow. And in that moment, I felt like someone had built a wall around me just to keep me safe.
But safety doesn't last in stories like mine.
The next day, Kingsley called a general staff meeting. His smile was too wide. His voice too smooth.
"I just want to make something clear," he said. "There's no room for fraternizing or inappropriate relationships between staff. Anyone caught breaking this rule will be terminated. Effective immediately."
His eyes landed on me. Then on Stan.
I felt the blood drain from my face.
He was going to make good on his threat.
> To be continued…
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Ready for Episode 5, Tiana? Things are about to shift seriously. We'll begin peeling back Stan's secret, and introduce a twist that gives Eva a choice: protect her heart or protect her family.