He traced the photograph in his hand with his fingers and sighed at the smooth feel of it. It was the picture of a woman. The face that had been hunting him for years and now graced the walls of his parlour and even sitting on some of his furniture. Each of the photos captured different moments. Some had her smiling, some in the middle of discussions. There were some of when she was very angry. He still had memories of moments when her anger had been directed at him. He usually did everything to bring back that smile to face. The one that usually warmed his heart and pulled at every strings in it. How he longed for those special moments again. And this, was his most recent one of her. One of his men, back in Nigeria had taken one of her. In it, she wore a sad look, one that threatened to stir a painful past, one he had tried so hard to bury for years. Her eyes that once had the brightest shine he knew, had dulled and even though he noticed a faint smile or an att...