My name is Bernice 25 years old, a fashion designer by profession. I work at a mid-sized fashion company in the city, but on the side, I co-own a small gift stall with my best friend and my boyfriend. It's not much, but it brings me peace and peace is something I've always valued.
It was a slow Sunday morning. I had just rolled out of bed, my head still fuzzy from last night. For the first time in my life, I went to a club yes, a real club with loud music, flashing lights, and too many shots to count. Surprisingly, I had a good time. The music, the laughter, the dancing... it felt good to let go.
I was still stretching when my phone buzzed. Efe.
"Efe, what's up? I just woke up! Last night was wild," I said, stifling a yawn.
"Bernice…" her voice came through, low and panicked. "I don't feel okay. I need you to come. Now. I feel like I'm dying."
My heart skipped.
Efe and I have been best friends since high school. We've seen each other through heartbreaks, breakouts, and job rejections. She's family. And as dramatic as she can be sometimes, this sounded different.
"Okay, Efe, just breathe. I'm coming right now. I'll call Dr. Sam, too."
I didn't even think. I tossed on a hoodie, slipped into my sneakers, and dashed out of the apartment.
Twenty minutes later, I arrived at her house.
I burst through the door only to find her in the living room, sitting cross-legged on the couch, eating chocolate cake and sipping juice like nothing had happened.
"Efe, is this a joke? I thought you were dying!" I snapped, my voice a mix of relief and frustration.
She grinned, completely unbothered. "Oh, c'mon, Ben. You know I won't die that easily." She paused, watching me like a child waiting to see if their prank had landed. "I'm sorry, okay? I just... missed you. We haven't had a girls' day out in forever, and now that you're starting your new job tomorrow, I figured this might be my last chance in a while."
That's the thing about Efe she rarely apologizes. She just spins everything so that you end up feeling guilty for being upset with her.
I sighed. "You could've just asked nicely, you know."
"I did!" she whined. "But you're always working or with Tunde. I had to be creative." She stood up, pulling me into the kitchen. "Now eat. We have a whole day planned mall, spa, beach. Let's do it all."
And so we did.
We spent the day like two carefree teenagers. Retail therapy at the mall, a relaxing facial at the spa, then a stop at KFC for late lunch. The weather was too perfect to ignore, so we ended the day at the Park, just lying on the grass , talking about everything and nothing.
By the time we got back to her place, I was wiped out. I took a quick shower and changed into something comfortable, already thinking about crashing.
Then she said it.
"Let's have a sleepover at your place tonight."
I blinked. "You're not scared of being alone, are you? Did something happen?"
She laughed. "Ben, stop overthinking everything. You know I don't scare that easily. I just don't want the day to end yet."
I didn't argue. I should've asked more questions. Maybe looked a little deeper. But she was my best friend, and honestly, the day had felt too good to ruin with suspicion.
So I let it go.
We drove back to my place together. She parked the car while I took the elevator up, waiting for her by my door.
As she walked toward me, I noticed a flicker of hesitation in her steps. But before I could ask what was wrong, she smiled and gestured for me to open the door.
What I saw next would change everything.