THE GHOST IN WHITE

:It never bends. It bites back.

And it did.

3:17 AM.Aisha Bello's safehouse in Yaba was breached.

No gunshots.No broken windows.No alarms.

Just a single white feather left on her laptop keyboard.

And the files… gone.

Zainab woke to Obi's voice on the line.

"Aisha's fine. She left two hours before the breach. But whoever did it—they didn't touch anything else. Just took the drive."

Zainab sat up, cold sweat dripping.

"The Ghost," she whispered.

Obi's silence confirmed it.

Who is the Ghost?

The name had once come up in a conversation between Raven and a foreign diplomat at the gala.Zainab remembered his exact words:

"If Zainab becomes a virus… we'll release the Ghost.No fingerprints. No noise.Just disappearances."

Zainab decided to move.

She left her father in Obi's care and switched locations—again.

This time to a low-key hotel in Ilupeju, under a different name:"Sadiya Umar."

But even there…She felt watched.

At noon, a package arrived at the hotel front desk.

No name.No return address.

Just a white envelope.

Inside:

A torn piece of her old scarf from Part One—burned at the edge.

And a note:

"Needles break. Secrets don't."

Zainab's hands shook.

Not because of fear.

But because this was personal.

The Ghost wasn't trying to stop her anymore.The Ghost was trying to break her spirit.

She made one call.

Obi answered.

"We hit first," she said. "We bring the Ghost to light."

"How?"

"By doing what ghosts hate most… we drag them into the sun."

That evening, she set up a livestream under a fake blog account.

She went live.

Voice masked.Face blurred.But words, sharp.

"A senator stole millions. The system laughed.A girl leaked proof. The system sent a ghost.But ghosts don't scare us anymore.If anything happens to me, here's a list of ten names connected to Operation Needle.Drop them. Share them. Remember them."

Ten names appeared on screen.One by one.

Including:

Raven

Two serving senators

One foreign diplomat

A retired general

And… a former EFCC chairman

The internet shook again.

But Zainab didn't stop there.

She ended with a line that would haunt the cabals:

"I'm not anonymous anymore.I'm not hiding.My name is Zainab AbdulRaheem.Daughter of a soldier. Tailor by trade.And I'm not afraid of your ghosts."

Far away, in a dark surveillance room, a masked figure watched the livestream.

She wore all white.

Not because she was pure.

But because she was the last thing her targets ever saw.

The Ghost stood up, cracked her knuckles, and whispered:

"Finally… a worthy stitch."