I. Greenhouse on the Plateau
The morning air on the Jos plateau carried the crisp scent of eucalyptus and wet granite. Halima set her sketchbook on the stone parapet, tracing the iron ribs of the roof where smoked glass had once filtered the noon sun.
When the gate latch clicked behind her, she expected the stonemason from Bukuru. Instead, a familiar leather tube of architectural blueprints rested against the doorframe.
'You kept the bougainvillea along the south wall,' Chidi said quietly, stepping out from beneath the archway. His sleeves were rolled, charcoal smudged across his wrist just as it had been in their university studio.