Dear Eva
Episode 6: The Walls Have Eyes
I had barely settled into my new role when I began to sense it: the eyes.
They followed me everywhere—from the receptionist's desk to the pantry, from the manager's office to the security post. I knew they weren't just watching because I was dating Stan. No, something deeper was brewing, and I could feel it crawl across my skin like a whisper.
Stan was his usual charming self, always checking up on me and finding excuses to bring me water or lunch, even when I insisted I was fine. But behind those deep eyes of his, something lingered—something I couldn't name. Not doubt exactly. Not fear. Maybe guilt?
I started to write more in my diary. The entries felt more like warnings now, like letters to a future version of myself begging me not to ignore what I already knew.
> "Dear Eva, if you feel watched, you probably are."
Ever since Kingsley's sudden transfer to the Abuja branch two weeks ago, everyone had seemed to relax. It felt like the air had lifted. But why did I feel like that peace was a setup?
One rainy morning, the hotel's HR officer, Madam Joy, summoned me.
"Eva, sit," she said, pointing to a seat across from her. Her expression was unreadable, as always.
"I'll make this quick," she began. "You've been an exemplary staff member. Professional, respectful. But I've received… some anonymous complaints."
My heart skipped.
"Complaints?"
"Yes," she said, folding her arms. "It seems someone's been accusing you of sneaking hotel property to your boyfriend, Stan."
I blinked, confused.
"I don't even have access to inventory."
"And yet someone claims they've seen you handing things over. Towels, wine bottles, even cash."
It was a setup.
I wanted to scream. I wanted to accuse someone—maybe the bitter receptionist who thought Stan should've fallen for her instead. Maybe those lurking housekeepers who smiled too sweetly. But I knew that would make me look defensive.
"Is there CCTV footage?" I asked calmly.
"There is. We're reviewing it."
When I returned to my post, I felt dizzy. Stan arrived a few minutes later with two cold drinks.
"Hey, I thought you might need a break," he said.
I looked at him hard.
"You didn't ask for hotel property, did you?"
He frowned. "What? No. Why would I do that?"
"Someone's accusing me of giving you things."
He set the drinks down slowly.
"Eva, this place is poisonous. You need to leave. Let's go somewhere else. We can start over."
His words stunned me. Start over? Leave?
"I can't," I whispered. "Not now."
And that's when he said something that chilled me to my bones:
"You're not the only one with secrets here, Eva."
He left before I could respond.
---
That night, I couldn't sleep. I paced my small room, replaying Stan's words. I even opened my old diaries, flipping back to the pages when Kingsley first started asking me out.
> "Dear Eva, love doesn't need to be pressured."
> "Dear Eva, no man should feel like a savior."
I didn't know who to trust anymore.
Three days later, the CCTV footage came back. Madam Joy called me in again, this time with the head of security.
"There's nothing conclusive," she said. "But the board still thinks it's best if you're transferred to the mainland branch for a while. Just until things cool off."
Exile. That's what it felt like.
I nodded. "Fine. I'll go."
That night, as I packed my few belongings from the staff quarters, Stan came to my door.
"I heard," he said quietly.
"I don't know if I'm coming back," I told him.
"I need to tell you something," he said.
I waited.
"I knew Kingsley before the hotel," he confessed. "We weren't just 'brothers' like he told you. We worked together. In security… and other things."
My breath caught.
"What kind of things?"
"I was in trouble, Eva. That's why he brought me in. This job was supposed to give me a clean slate. But then I met you… and everything changed."
I felt like vomiting.
"So you lied to me too?"
"I didn't lie," he insisted. "I just… didn't tell the whole truth."
"And now you want me to run away with you?"
He took a step forward. "I want you to choose us. Not just the job. Not just your pride. Us."
I looked at him, really looked—at the man who made my heart race, the man who might have been planted in my life by someone like Kingsley.
"Who sent those complaints?" I asked suddenly.
Stan hesitated. Then shook his head.
"I don't know."
And I didn't believe him.
---
The mainland branch was quieter. Less luxurious. But less drama too.
I tried to focus on work, but I kept writing. My diary was the only place I could breathe. One evening, I wrote:
> "Dear Eva, some love stories are sabotage in disguise."
> "Dear Eva, your heart isn't stupid—but it's hopeful. That's dangerous."
Two weeks passed.
And then Kingsley came back.
Yes. Back.
He walked into the lobby of the mainland branch one Thursday evening and asked to see me.
I was stunned.
"Eva," he said. "We need to talk."
"Talk?" I asked coldly. "You've had months to talk."
He looked tired. Older.
"I'm not here to beg. I'm here to warn you."
My chest tightened.
"Stan wasn't who you thought he was."
I stood up. "Stop. Just stop."
"No, you need to hear this," Kingsley insisted. "He's working with a syndicate that's been siphoning money from hotels across the city. He seduces the receptionist, gets her trust, then moves in for the kill. I was trying to protect you."
The world tilted.
"No," I whispered.
"I gave you the Abuja transfer because I knew he would never follow you there. But you stayed. You trusted him."
I was shaking.
"You're lying."
"I have proof," Kingsley said, handing me a file. "Do whatever you want with it. But you deserve the truth."
When I got home that night, I opened the file.
There were photos. Bank transfers. A police report. Stan's real name wasn't even Stan.
His real name was Emeka Ojo. He'd been arrested twice. Released. Vanished. Reappeared with fake identities.
I fell to the floor.
He'd called me Dear Eva.
I called him my dream man.
And he had played me from the start.
I didn't go to work the next day.
Instead, I wrote. And cried. And screamed.
> "Dear Eva, you saw the signs. You wanted love. But he wanted access."
> "Dear Eva, forgive yourself."
Then, I called Kingsley.
"Meet me tomorrow," I said. "I want to know everything."
As I hung up, I realized: I had spent months trying to escape Kingsley, only to run into someone far worse.
And yet… I wasn't broken.
I was burning.
Because this was no longer about love. It was about revenge.
To be continued...
Episode 6 is complete! It's about 2,000 words and dives deep into Eva's emotional turmoil, the fallout with Stan, Kingsley's return, and the shocking twist that Stan may have never been who he said he was. Ready to move on to Episode 7?