he sunrise over the city was a cruel, brilliant gold. As Zazu and Leya descended the skeleton of the skyscraper, the city below was already waking up—unaware that a decade-old debt was about to be collected in the most brutal way possible.
They didn't go back to the estate. They went straight to Chelstone.
By the time Zazu's car screeched to a halt in front of the modest, sun-bleached apartment block where Aunt Beatrice lived, the scene was already a circus. A white pickup truck with "ZIA CAMPUS SECURITY" was parked haphazardly across the sidewalk.
Musi was there, leaning against the hood of the truck, looking remarkably refreshed for someone who had spent the night plotting a ruin. He was holding a clipboard, flanked by two men in heavy reflective vests.
"You're early, Zazu," Musi called out, his voice echoing in the quiet morning air. "I thought you'd still be up in the clouds playing hero."
Leya was out of the car before it had fully stopped. She pushed past the men in vests, her heart hammering against her ribs. "Where is my aunt?"
"Inside, packing her 'sentimental' items, I assume," Musi said, clicking his pen. "The Board reviewed the breach of contract at 6:00 AM. Since the 'Stabilization Files' were destroyed last night—a move we've traced to your student login, by the way—the school has declared the Kapiri estate in default. This property is collateral. It's being repurposed as a faculty guest house."
"You can't do this," Zazu said, stepping up beside Leya. His presence was a physical weight, his jaw set in a line of pure iron. "There's a thirty-day notice period for any collateral seizure."
"Not when the security of the state is involved," Musi countered, his smile widening. "The destruction of government-linked data is a felony, Zazu. We're being generous by just taking the flat instead of calling the police."
The door to the flat opened, and Aunt Beatrice stepped out. She wasn't crying. She was wearing her best Sunday suit, holding a small wooden box and a single suitcase. She looked at Leya, and for the first time, the fire in her eyes was replaced by a quiet, devastating dignity.
"Leya, don't," Beatrice said as Leya moved to protest. "They have the papers. They've been waiting for a reason to do this since the day we landed back in this country."
"Auntie, no," Leya whispered, her London accent cracking. "I destroyed the files. It's my fault."
"No," Beatrice said, looking past her at Musi. "It's the fault of men who think a title deed is more powerful than a name."
Musi signaled to the bailiffs. "Clear the unit. Change the locks. We have a Board meeting at 9:00 AM to finalize the transfer."
As the men moved toward the door, Zazu didn't look at Musi. He looked at the clipboard. He looked at the specific stamp on the bottom of the eviction notice—the seal of the ZIA Endowment Trust.
"Wait," Zazu said, his voice dropping to a dangerous, low frequency.
"Save it, Zazu," Musi snapped. "Your father can't bail her out this time. He's the one who signed the original lien."
"I'm not looking at my father's signature," Zazu said. He grabbed the clipboard from Musi's hand. Musi tried to snatch it back, but Zazu held it high, his eyes scanning the fine print. "This isn't a government seizure. This is a private Trust action."
Zazu turned to Leya, a strange, frantic light in his eyes. "Leya, the Heritage Society Charter we signed with Mrs. Mulenga. Do you remember the third clause? The one about 'Ancestral Land Use'?"
Leya blinked, her mind racing back to the dusty basement. "The clause that says any land donated to the school before 1994 remains under the jurisdiction of the original donor's heirs if the Trust is ever dissolved or... modified?"
"Exactly," Zazu said. He looked back at Musi, who was beginning to look less like a victor and more like a boy who had missed a page in the textbook. "The ZIA Endowment Trust was modified this morning when you declared the Kapiri estate in default. By doing that, you triggered a 'reversion' clause. This land doesn't belong to the school anymore."
"Then who does it belong to?" Musi spat.
Zazu handed the clipboard back to him, a cold, triumphant smirk playing on his lips.
"It belongs to the senior-most living heir of the 1992 grant," Zazu said. He pointed to Aunt Beatrice. "And since her brother—your father, Leya—is legally incapacitated, the title reverts to the person who has been living on it. Your aunt isn't the tenant, Musi. She's the owner. All of it. The flat, the park next door, and the entire South Quad of the Academy."
The silence in the street was absolute. Even the bailiffs stopped moving.
Aunt Beatrice looked at the box in her hands, then at Zazu. A slow, knowing smile touched her lips. "I told you, Leya. Some people forget that names have roots."
Musi looked at the papers, his face turning a sickly shade of grey. "This... this is a technicality. The Board will fight this."
"Let them," Zazu said, stepping closer until he was inches from Musi's face. "But until then, get your truck off my landlord's sidewalk."