Chapter 7: Last Trick

I off surveillance app, off dashcam. My phone quiet, my heart dey beat slow.

I fit imagine… as those men see say nobody dey inside, the kind wahala wey go start, the kind gbege wey go happen. E go be like Village Headmaster part two.

How dem go take am out for Musa? Na question wey go pain reach bone.

I no fit look. I no wan see. My conscience dey prick me, but for Naija, na sharp brain dey win.

Truth be say, this na two-man magic trick. If you sabi street, you go sabi sey real magicians no dey work alone. The hustle na team work—Musa, my padi, na the best partner for this life.

I pat Musa for back, whisper, 'God go butter your bread, Musa. Na you be true padi.'

As truck fade for distance, I grip the coin, six lives left, and for this Lagos, my magic never finish.