Now, those words spoken once more by a colleague, confirming my deepest fears that I’d become noise at work, surrounded by awful assumptions.
After the shower, I collapsed on my bed and closed my eyes. When I opened them again, the sun had dipped lower, and the clock on the wall read six in the evening. But what had woken me wasn’t the time. It was noise from outside my room, from downstairs.
Pressing a hand to my temple, I got to my feet. Andi and Tsabinu’s voices drifted from below. I walked toward the door, but my reflection in the mirror stopped me cold. Oh no.
My eyes were horribly swollen, and my nose was bright red. If Tsabinu saw me like this again, in such a short span, he’d press me, and this time, I honestly didn’t know what I could say.
So instead, I cracked my door open quietly and tiptoed to the landing. I peered down the stairs, leaning against the railing, watching the two of them.
Andi spoke with energy, already changed into his loose white T-shirt and jeans. Tsabinu, on the other hand, was still in his buttoned-down shirt. The lines of his face sagged, and his hair was out of place.
He listened to Andi while staring at the empty glass in front of him.
“Wait, don’t tell me…” Andi’s eyes sharpened at him. “Asshole, you already knew, Bib?!”
Knew?Knew what?
Tsabinu sighed. “Yeah, I—”
“And you didn’t say anything?” Andi snapped, lowering his voice.
Didn’t say anything? What were they talking about?
Leaning further forward, I strained to catch every word. “My sister’s not okay right now, Ndi,” Tsabinu said at last, his voice low. He slipped off his glasses and rubbed his brow, shoulders sagging. “She was crying yesterday, her eyes swollen, and she refused to tell me anything. So I’m asking you not to bring it up yet.” His tone was weary, and it hurt my chest to hear it.
My hands on the railing shook, and I bit my lip hard. I was piling more and more on him.
“I know she’s not okay these days,” he added, voice hollow and low. “I don’t know why, and I’m worried.”
Andi stared at him, and his face tensed.
No. Please, Andi, don’t.My pulse thudded, and my palms grew slick against the railing.
Tsabinu caught it too. His voice sharpened. “I know you know something.”
My breath hitched.
“Bib—”
“No, listen to me first, Andi.” His voice cut, firm. “Tshabina is my twin sister. And you… You’re my best friend too, not just hers. I know sometimes she’s more open with you, but she’s my sister, Ndi.”
Tsabinu paused, and his tone grew more… tremulous. “I’m the only family she’s got left to lean on, but how am I supposed to protect her if I don’t even know what she’s going through?” His voice cracked, eyes desperate. “I know she may have asked you to stay silent. But please. When it comes to her, I’ll be selfish, because I need to know.I need to protect her.”
Andi exhaled. “I’m here too, Bib. She’s got me as well, and I love her too.”
My vision blurred with tears.
Please, no…
Finally, Andi turned to him. “Okay. Fine.”
My heart nearly burst from my chest.
“Earlier, when Zioh took her out for lunch and talked work with her, I was on the phone with her. Then suddenly… There were these two bitches from the office talking shit about her behind me.”
Tsabinu’s face stiffened, his eyes narrowing. “What did they say?”
Andi’s jaw clenched. “Long story. But basically, they called her and your mom… sluts. And accused her of seducing Aditya.”
