Bernice sat in front of her dressing mirror, her eyes fixed on her reflection, yet seeing nothing. The soft hum of her air conditioner filled the room, but it did nothing to quiet the storm in her head. Her fingers traced the diamond ring on her finger Tunde's proposal was just weeks ago, yet something already felt wrong.
Alexandra's request echoed again in her mind:
"You're the best in your department. I want you to accompany me to the Chicago design exhibition."
A once-in-a-lifetime offer.
But it clashed with another commitment one she'd made long before she ever met Alexandra. Tunde's family dinner. He was finally going to introduce her formally to his parents. And with how skeptical his mother already seemed, Bernice knew missing the dinner would come across as disrespectful.
Still, something about the way Alexandra looked at her during the meeting, the weight of his praise, had shifted something inside her. Confusion wrapped around her thoughts like a fog. She knew she shouldn't miss this chance for any reason, but she didn't want to lose the other either.
Her head spun. She needed clarity.
And if there was one person she trusted to help her think straight, it was Efe.
She picked up her phone and dialed.
No answer.
She tried again. Still nothing.
Bernice sighed in frustration. "Where is this girl?"
They talked about everything daily. This silence felt unusual. Efe never missed her calls, especially when Bernice was clearly distressed.
Without bothering to change out of her housewear, she slipped her feet into her slides, grabbed her handbag and spare car keys, and made the short drive across town to Efe's apartment. It wasn't far she'd been there countless times. It had once felt like a second home.
Efe lives at Efab Estate Gwarinpa a quiet estate where the gates never creaked and secrets stayed inside walls.
I got there in under 25 minutes. Her gate was open, slightly. Odd. In this part of Abuja, gates don't just stay ajar not when every neighbor is either a nosy civil servant or someone with too much to lose.
As i pulled up to the compound, i noticed Efe's car parked right in front of the house.
So she's home.
Bernice frowned. The front gate was wide open, unusual for someone as cautious as Efe. I walked up the steps and knocked once. Then again. No response.
Just when she was about to turn back and call again, i remembered something.
I still had the spare key.
Efe had given it to me months ago after she lost her own keys during a sleepover. They'd laughed about it, joking that they were practically co-owners of each other's lives.
Bernice hesitated, then reached into her bag and pulled out the silver key. She slipped it into the lock.
Click.
The door creaked open quietly.
"Efe?" I called softly as she stepped inside.
The apartment was unusually silent. No TV. No music. Even the lights were dimmed, as though trying to hide something.
Bernice stepped in cautiously, shutting the door behind her.
I was halfway across the living room when i heard it a low, familiar laugh.
Tunde.
My heart skipped a beat. Tunde?
I crept toward the hallway, my steps silent on the tiled floor. The voices were coming from the bedroom. The door was slightly ajar.
And that's when she heard it.
"She thinks I'm madly in love with her," Tunde said, his voice thick with mockery.
"And why wouldn't she?" Efe replied, laughing. "She's always showing off how well-off her late mother was. Acting like she's above everyone else. Like we're blessed to breathe the same air."
"Let her flaunt it. She's going to marry me soon. Which means access to that juicy inheritance. Once the documents are finalized, she's basically funding the rest of our lives."
"Hmm. I can't wait till we get rid of her for good," Efe added, her voice sharper now, colder.
Tunde's tone dropped. "Not like that. But once we have what we need, she'll be out of the picture. And it'll be just us."
My knees buckled.
I leaned against the wall, trying to steady her breath, but every inhale felt like swallowing knives. My chest rose and fell with short, sharp gasps. The world tilted on its axis.
"The way she acts all noble because she lost her mom… like trauma makes her royalty. It icks my guts," Efe sneered.
I couldn't take it anymore.
I stumbled backward, knocking over a small plant pot by the hallway. The crash startled her, but she didn't care. She bolted for the door, flinging it open and racing to her car.
Her hands trembled so badly she struggled to fit the key into the ignition. Tears blurred her vision. Her ears still rang with their words, like knives carving away every piece of innocence she had left.
Five years.
Five years of believing she was loved.
Eight years of trusting her best friend.
Five years of building a future with people who never saw her as anything more than a meal ticket.
The sob that erupted from her was raw, broken. It tore from her chest with such force that it made her shake.
She screamed.
Not just from heartbreak.
From humiliation.
From rage.
From betrayal so deep it seared her bones.
In that moment, Bernice died not physically, but emotionally.
The girl who trusted blindly? Gone.
The woman sitting behind the wheel now? She was something new.
Something dangerous.
And she was done being anybody's shortcut