Zara's mind reeled as she stumbled through the empty alley, the sound of distant drums echoing in her ears. She had to find Amara. The hooded figure reappeared, its voice low and menacing. "You can't escape the market's deal. You wanted something; now you'll pay."
Zara's thoughts flashed to her sister, Aisha, lost in a Lagos street riot. The grief still raw, she faced the figure. "What do you want?" The figure laughed, a sound like rustling leaves. "Your memories. One for Aisha."
Zara hesitated. Her memories of Aisha were all she had left. But the figure vanished, leaving her with a location: "Moonlight Bridge, midnight. Come alone."
At midnight, Zara stood on the deserted bridge, the Lagos skyline a distant glow. Amara appeared, eyes still milky white. "It's a trap," she whispered. Zara turned – the hooded figure waited. "Pay the price," it said.
Zara threw a memory – a childhood laugh with Aisha – into the night. The figure caught it, its grip tightening. Aisha's face appeared before Zara, smiling. The figure vanished. Amara spoke, her voice back. "Run."
As they fled, Zara saw her memories playing out in the night sky – fragments of joy, pain, and loss. The market's price was steep, but she'd pay for Aisha.
Amara stopped at a small café, the sign reading "Koko's Place." Inside, an old woman nodded. "Welcome, Zara. You've paid the first price. What will you do next?"