PART 2: “THE WOMAN IN THE PHOTO WAS SUPPOSED TO BE DEAD.”
Kojo Mensah Brew forgot the person speaking on his phone.
Forgot the traffic.
Forgot the driver waiting for instructions.
Because the woman staring back at him from the crumpled hospital photograph had once destroyed his entire world.
Or so he had believed.
His hand slowly lowered the phone from his ear.
The voice on the other end kept talking.
“Sir? Sir, the board meeting starts in twenty minutes—”
