Wattpad has been so frustrating to use. Is anybody else experiencing the same glitch or is it just me? 

I hope they rectify the issue soon.

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     “Would things have been better if 

             I had acted differently?

         I guess we would never know.”

—————————★—————————

     ~Oluwaseyi Alexander Johnson~

Hollow.

My eyes were hollow. They were red, bloodshot from not having slept for two days straight. But they weren't wet. I brought my hand to my eyes as I stared at my reflection in the mirror, ignoring my hair which was a tangled mess. 

Just as I was looking, my eyes were as dry as the desert. Not even a single tear had dropped from them since the disaster that had been that night. No matter how much I tried, how hard I tried, I couldn't cry. 

I didn't know how to cry about what had happened.

Turning the tap on, I brought my fingers down my face under the running water. I scooped water into my hands and splashed them on my face. Maybe if I tried hard enough, I could pretend that they were tears running down my face.

How could I not cry?

After a few more attempts, I turned off the tap and proceeded to pull off my clothes. My shoulders ache and I had a nasty headache building up. The terrible kind that even five dosages of paracetamol wouldn't stop. It came as a result of not having slept for more than two days.

I knew that even if I tried tonight, I wouldn't be able to sleep like I'd been pretending that I'd been doing to my parents.

Everytime I closed my eyes, Grace face appeared in my mind. Eyes puckered, dry, empty, hollow. Dead. A contrast to what they had been when I'd last seen her before her demise. Death.

My body shuddered at that thought and it shuddered even more when I got under the running shower tap. Not even the water could calm down the barrage of thoughts and images already flooding my mind from that night at the Nwankwo mansion.

There had been blood everywhere.

Red, sticky and very disturbing but that wasn't what I had been looking at as I stood there amidst the brewing chaos and the officer's confusion while they pushed everyone back to inspect the scene.

While people screamed at the top of their lungs, crying for whom they hadn't liked, I stood there staring at the hollow creeping face of my best friend covered in blood. 

She was my best friend.

My best friend.

And I had stood there for what felt like a century, staring at her corpse on the floor without a single tear springing to my face. Did that make me a monster?

I guess it did.

I finished bathing and stepped out of the shower after turning off the tap. I walked into my walk-in closet which had always been one to admire, dripping wet from my shower. I could pretend that I was wiping away the blood from the scene when I cleaned the wet floor later. 

Absent-mindedly, I started to get dressed for school. The school had declared that classes wouldn't hold but counseling would be held for whoever wanted to come to school which was why I wasn't even in the least bothered that it was almost ten in the morning. It wasn't like lateness wasn't a general thing alluded to before all these.

My sleep always came first. Funny that I couldn't even shut my eyes to get a moment's worth of sleep without being haunted by the face of my best friend.

I had seen all kinds of expressions over the last two days. But there had never been a face where she had been smiling at me. The one that struck me the most wasn't the one where she had appeared dead and hollow. No, it had to be the one with the shock stricken expression on her face, disbelief in her eyes while her eyes welled up with tears at me.

My last moment with her alive when I had been nothing but an asshole to her. When wasn't I an asshole again? I couldn't remember especially as I was an asshole to everyone worth knowing these days.

I put back the expensive perfume I had sprayed on my body back to where it belonged and without bothering to glance at myself in the mirror, I stepped out of my closet into my room. 

A small sigh nearly escaped me at the sight of the petite, fair-skinned woman sitting on my bed with her braids covering the sides of her face. I hadn't heard her come in at all but from the way she had made herself comfortable on my bed, I knew that she must have been here a while. Probably when I was in the shower.

My mother, Zirachi Johnson raised her head from whatever she was previously engrossed in to stare at me. Her eyes were soft and filled with warmth as well as concern. She sat up on the bed and unfolded her crossed ankles at her feet. 

“Baby,” she called, gesturing for me to come to her.

 If it had been any other day, I would have hurriedly went to her but that day, I stood there, staring at the face of the woman I had always thought was the prettiest person alive. 

My mother, Zirachi Johnson was the prettiest woman I had ever known. Or that was what I used to think. When I was a little boy, I used to consider myself smittened with my mother. I would lay my head on laps while gazing at her face and silently wondering how she was so pretty. I told her that she was pretty too, countless times.

Her small lips would spread so widely that I feared they would tear and her eyes would light up with a speed that always managed to stun me, shining so brightly that I would be enamored by them. Sometimes, I wondered how my father managed to snag her as his wife. Sometimes too, I thought that she was too pretty for him.

“Come here, Seyi.” She commanded softly, her lips stretched into one of those smiles that usually made me feel better on my bad days.

But I didn't move away from the door. 

I didn't also look at her beautiful face anymore as my eyes had caught something else. The picture frame she must have taken from my bed because I had been up all night staring at it. 

My mum didn't say anything as she watched me walk up to the bed where she sat. I picked the picture frame from beside her on the bed and gazed at it. Two small sized humans were in the picture, me and Grace.

I was donning a very fine trouser and shirt in the picture, the latest trend then. There was a paper made crown on my head, a large childish grin with an innocence that I no longer had. My eyes swerved to the side and there she was. My best friend.

In her blue dress that was sweeping the floor as though she was the birthday celebrant, her smile was the largest and her eyes were the brightest as she grinned at the boy whom she had just made friends with. The day we had become friends. 

The only physical memory of her that I could truly believe that she had been happy. 

It was important to me that I held on to that belief; that she had been happy.

“Seyi,” my mother wrapped her gentle hands around my wrist, pulling me to look away from the picture. When I looked at her, I could see the worry in her eyes. “Perhaps, you shouldn't go to school today.”

Her voice was suggestive and pleading even though I knew that she wouldn't stop me if I did otherwise. She never stopped me. She always allowed me to do as I wanted.

“I will go,” I shrugged quietly as I put the picture frame away. She let go of my hand but didn't stop staring at me with concern.

“Okay, then. Your father came to check on you this morning but you were sleeping. He has left for work.” She started to talk.

I knew when he had come into my room to check on me but I had laid on my bed, pretending to be asleep. He had lingered for a few minutes as if to check if I was really okay before he left for work.

“Okay,” I nodded once as I grabbed my bag. 

“I cooked your meal this morning. Your favorite, so you will eat well.” She started out of my room while I followed behind her.

My mother didn't cook except on rare occasions. My father didn't want her going into the kitchen or doing anything around the house. Little reason why our large house was crowded with maids and housekeepers that took care of the place. If Timileyin Johnson had his way, my mother wouldn't work as an interior designer too. One of the best the world has produced so far.

“You didn't have to do that,” I mumbled as we began to climb down the stairs. She reached for my bag to help me with it and I allowed her.

“Let me,” she smiled. 

When we arrived at the long dining table that was way too long and unnecessary for a family of three, I settled down on my seat while she went to bring my food. There was no maid in sight and knowing my mum, I knew that she must have chased them out of the house just for the time that she was home. 

She didn't like how the always hovered around the place.

“Don't you have a meeting?” I asked as I bit into my bread and egg which she had prepared for me. Only my mother and our oldest maid knew how I preferred to eat my egg. 

Something as simple as a fried egg was a difficult task for a lot of people. I was just thankful that my parents didn't waste any time in firing people that weren't up to the task. After all, what benefits would they be if they couldn't fry my egg the way I wanted it?

“I postponed it for later in the day. Told them my son is grieving.” She explained.

I frowned. “I haven't shed a single tear.” 

“People grieve differently, Seyi. It is not until you wail like some over dramatic people that people will know that you are grieving.” She explained again, smiling.

“Okay,” I shrugged, casually.

“Ehn ehn,” she pushed her chair to the bag as she jumped out of her seat. I picked up my glass of pineapple juice to take a sip. “I almost forgot what your father asked me to give you.”

“What is that?” I asked after I put the glass away, knowing that it was something good since she was beaming.

“The keys to the new Tesla he just bought. He asked me to give it to you since you won't stop talking about it.” She grinned.

I almost rolled my eyes as I bit into my food once more. I had known that the car would be mine in a few weeks even though he had bought it for himself only a month ago. My father always indulged me in whatever I wanted. It didn't matter that he had gotten me a red sports car for resumption, he was giving me the black tesla he just bought.

At least, I had something new to cruise with. 

“Don't bother bringing the keys. I will check it out when I'm back from school.” I told her. 

My mother only nodded while she stood there and watched me eat. When I finished, I pushed the plates away and got to my feet. She carried my school bag and escorted me out of the room in silence, following me till we got to my car.

“My keys,” I snapped at the older man behind the wheels. My father had employed him as my personal chauffeur but I had never needed him. Maybe things would change in the future but at that moment, I didn't need anybody riding my baby.

The older man rushed out of the car and handed me the keys. He bowed his head in greeting to me and my mum, muttering something under his breath. I settled into the driver's seat and placed my bag in the passenger seat.

“If anyone gives you trouble at school, text me. I will make them go away.” Mum said as she stepped forward and kissed my forehead.

“I think I can handle anybody,” I shrugged with a small smile. Only a small number of people dared to mess with the only child of the Johnson. 

“Good. Give them trouble and drive safely.” She blew me a kiss as I started the car. I nodded at her once before I drove out of the premises, ignoring my blaring phone where it was in my bag.

My mother's words resonated deeply in my head.

Give them trouble…

If only she knew that giving people trouble had never been a problem for me. Taking trouble from anybody else however was going to be the death of me.

My setmates were the exact definition of hypocrite. They weren't just the perfect example, they were the exact definition of the word. I had always known that but perhaps, I had forgotten about it until I started to trudge down the hallway of my class. 

All around me, students lingered in corners, forming little groups and cliques that were unusually unbalanced since everyone had and knew their friends but the sudden colossal news had somehow managed to bring them to mix up with each other. 

There were murmurs in the air, most of which had increased even more with my presence. Some of them were whispering. Others were openly talking and pointing at me, not even pretending that it wasn't me they were talking about. The hallway was far from the noisy place I had known it to be and that deeply unsettled me.

Life went on, did it not?

It didn't matter who was dead and who didn't die. I had driven myself today and while I had been stuck in the traffic, the usual hustle and bustle of Lagos hadn't known or understood that I lost someone precious to me. Hawkers had gawked at my car while trying to sell off their wares to me, people had roamed the streets, talking, laughing, gossiping as though they weren't news of my best friend's death all over every news station I could think of.

Life simply went on when Grace Mode died.

And maybe that was what angered me as I glared at the pitying and disapproving looks my setmates had plastered on their faces while I walked past them. Some of them tried to touch me. At least, I could see Serenity Dalu, one of the girls I had hooked up with at the party making her way toward me after abandoning my girls.

“Seyi,” she called smoothly, her lips which had been painted a deep shade of red on Friday night now coated with a fine clear gloss that shimmered. 

She pouted her lips as she stepped toward me, her long lashes fluttering like something had entered her eyes the same way they had been doing when she sucked me off a few days ago. She brought her fingers up my chest, dragging their tip till she was cradling my face like I was her baby.

“I'm so sorry to hear what happened. Grace was one of the prettiest people in our set and now she is just gone. Ah. I couldn't believe my ears when I heard the news. Do you know what people are saying? Omo, I'm not even sure sef but considering what everybody has been saying, they can't be wrong. But people are saying that Dara has a—”

I flung her hand off my face in the middle of her rambling. She stopped but didn't get the hint to stop talking as she went on talking. This was the reason why you didn't hook up with girls like Serenity more than once.

Friday night made it the second time and it wouldn't even have happened if she hadn't bewitched me with her red painted lips. The slut couldn’t seduce a guy to save her life but she was always ready to spread her legs to whoever was willing.

“Stop talking,” I cut into her ramble, harshly. “You are giving me a headache.” I told her.

She nodded, her eyes filling with fake sympathy. 

“I can't even begin to imagine how hard it is for you. Your best friend just died. I'm sure you must feel terrible. She wasn't just a best friend to you, was she?” she started to straighten my tie again like she was hard of hearing. 

She talked too much. Little wonder why she found it hard to listen to the words of others.

“Of course, she wasn't.” I hissed.

Foolish girl.

She smiled as she finished fixing my tie which I was sure looked alright before she touched it. 

“I suspected too. That was why you didn't come to me again after the first time. I knew you must have been sleeping with her. But now that she is dead, you will have my time again.” She was still gloating.

I glared hard at her, aware that I had people staring. I didn't mind causing a scene by slapping that smug look off her face but it was too early. I never gave girls like her any opportunity to think that because I found them desirable for the night, I wanted to be in a relationship with them. Where she got that false hope from, I didn't know.

As much as I would love to call her out, I didn't do it. It was too early. I was pretty tired and just wanted to get today done with. 

“Seyi,” 

A familiar voice called and I didn't have to raise my head to know who it was. Without saying a word to Serenity, I pushed her aside before I could tell what would hurt her. Saheed was waiting for me at the end of the hallway when I got to him.

“Wassup man,” he nudged me with his elbow as we walked out of eyesight, toward the deserted part of the school—our usual spot. EHS buildings have a lot of those designated spots.

“You know what is up,” I shrugged as we finally reached our spot which was empty, to my surprise.

“The others no dey school,” Saheed answered my unasked question, swiftly switching to pidgin which only brought to light his Hausa accent.

“That Serenity girl no dey hear word. Na every guy she wan fuck for this school.” He grumbled as he settled down beside me on the clean pavement. I pushed my back up the wall for more comfort.

“You fuck am, abi?” Saheed asked as he rummaged through the bag he had brought with him. When I didn't say anything, he stopped to stare at my face before he busted out laughing. “Guy, why you con dey look like that? You fuck am abi you no fuck am. Na question I ask.” He nudged me again.

I shrugged in response, choosing to look the other way as he lit up the smoke he had brought from his bag.

“Na every guy wey I know she don fuck. Shey you know that SS 2 boy, Darrel?” This time, he reached into his bag and handed me a bottle of brandy. 

I uncocked it and took a sip of the alcohol. At least, I had something to keep me going while he talked my ears off. Saheed was stupid. Very stupid as a matter of fact. One of the scholarship students EHS had admitted. One would think that he would thread carefully with his scholarship but somehow his friendship with me seemed to have deluded him into thinking that he was invisible.

“She don fuck that one too. I catch them for toilet for inside this school. She no even get sense.” He blew out the smoke from the weed and I wrinkled my nose from the smell.

“Ehn ehn, that girl wey dey follow Grace that time. That one wey she and Grace dey always dey that time,” he stopped to stare at me as though he hadn't just casually brought up Grace like she was still alive.

Saheed's way of dealing with the news was pretending that it never happened. Like it never happened. Which was why it came as a surprise to me when I saw the tears rolling down his cheeks as he stared at me. 

I shifted uncomfortably away from him as he sniffed.

“E still dey do me like film trick, ajeh. How person go just die like that? Grace wey I see that night. Person wey follow me dance. She even talk say I stupid as she dey always do.” 

Grace was always saying that he was stupid.

“You are so stupid, Saheed,” she would roll her eyes in annoyance or laugh sometimes while she pushed him playfully. She was the only female in our clique yet she fit in perfectly well.

“Make person just die like chicken.” He muttered again. I sighed and tipped the head of the bottle back before filling my mouth with the liquor.

“I no even know wetin to talk,” he smoked again.

I continued to stare while I watched tears continuously run down his cheeks. When I checked my face moments later, I wasn't surprised to learn that they were dry. As dried as a desert could be.

★★★★

Detective Nwaeze was nowhere near the fine man he thought himself to be. Perhaps, he didn't know that the distorted line scarring the side of his face that ran from his dry lips up to one of his eyes was one of the ugliest things I'd seen. The beards lining his jaw were scanty yet he kept running his hands through them as though that was what made him a man.

I resisted the urge to continue to stare at the scar on his face while wondering what he must have gotten himself into to warrant something like that. I could never imagine myself in a situation like that. My face was a honeypot for ladies. I took care of it more than anything else.

“You dey look am abi?” The ugly looking man turned his face to the side to show me the side of his face where the jarring line was eminent. 

“You see say he fine abi? Wetin rich man pikin wan do wey dey go do am this thing?” He sounded bitter as he glared at me. 

I wanted to ask him if doing that would make the scar disappear from his face but I refrained from doing so. Saheed had informed me of the detectives questioning everyone who had been at the party and I had been specifically requested for since I was Grace's best friend.

And somehow, that made me the biggest suspect.

“I don't know how you people will—”

“That's enough, detective.” 

Another voice cut in, this one more authoritative than that of the glaring detective. He was detective Stanley. The man had said nothing but his name since I was ushered into the spare office the principal had loaned them for their meeting. I knew at one point, Mr. Oduale had stood looking in and trying to get information from the detectives before he returned to his office.

Detective Stanley in his black suit and shining polished shoes stepped forward and took the spare seat in front of the table. He sat up, staring directly at me while his fingers played with the tape recorder on the table. I stared at him quietly, wondering what he must have picked up on in the few minutes that I had been there.

“Elite high school,” he muttered slowly, dragging the first word like it would somehow make it longer than it was. There was a look I couldn't decipher on his face as he stared at something that wasn't me.

“Something like this happened recently, did it not?” He asked, quietly.

“Yes,” I answered quietly. 

This place unnerved me even though I had nothing to hide. This man seated opposite me, staring into thin air was starting to make me uncomfortable especially with his pointed nose and blank stare now aimed at me.

He pressed the switch on the tape recorder and sat back on the cushion of the chair.

“Your name,”

“Oluwaseyi Alexander Johnson,”

“How were you related to the deceased?” 

“I was her best friend,”

His brows snapped up. “For how long?”

“Ten years. I met her at my eighth birthday party.” I relayed.

“What was your relationship like?”

I shrugged. “I just told you. She was my best friend,” I mumbled, casually meeting his gaze without stuttering.

“Where were you on the night of her death?” Detective Nwaeze asked.

“I was at Kambili Nwankwo’s house. The party.” I answered.

“Okay. Where were you when she was murdered?” Nwaeze asked.

I frowned at the question. “I was at the party. I don't know the exact time she was murdered. How could I know? I didn't do it.” I told them, pointedly.

“Nobody is saying that you did it.” Nwaeze grumbled under his breath even as he glared at me.

“Did you see the deceased at any point at the party?” Detective Stanley took over.

“I did. We didn't arrive together since I went with my boys. But at one point at the party, we met and exchanged pleasantries. She didn't stay with us since she was with her boyfriend.” I frowned at the term boyfriend. 

That bastard couldn't even protect her from death, talk less of anything.

“And who is this her boyfriend that you talk about?” 

“One of the students here. I doubt he is in school though. Kingsley Anayo.” I revealed, keeping my tone light.

“Did you notice anything unusual on the night of her death? Whether with her or at the party?” Stanley asked.

I thought about the question for a few seconds before I started to shake my head. When I went to parties, I went there to party. And party hard I did. 

“Nothing at all?” He pushed.

I frowned again. “Nothing. It was a party and everything seemed quite normal to me.” I shrugged again.

“Have you ever had any conflicts or disagreement with the victim?” He asked.

This time, I went quiet. 

My mind was reeling. What he had asked was a completely normal question but the way my heart started racing in my chest, you would think that I'd been caught dead with the murder weapon. I didn't kill her, I knew that yet my palms had started to sweat terribly.

I didn't kill her.

“We are waiting for your response,” Nwaeze exchanged glances with the other detective while I moved in my seat, sitting up.

I cleared my throat since I suddenly felt very parched. “We were best friends for ten years. We might have understood each other but we had our moments of disagreement.” I stated carefully.

“True,” Stanley nodded, staring directly into my eyes. That made me feel uneasy. “What was the latest one about and when?”

My heart was hammering in my chest.

“I can't remember,” my reply was instantaneous. 

The two detectives exchanged glances while I balled my sweaty palms in my thighs. This could not go wrong. This must not go wrong.

“That's funny.” Detective Stanley chuckled as he leafed through the note on his desk, ignoring the tape recorder which was still rolling. “I recall someone saying that you have been having arguments recently.”

Fuck!

Remain calm, Seyi. 

Remain calm..

“Really?” I huffed, meeting their gazes sparingly. “We don't air our dirty laundry in public. Grace and I are two mature people.” I cleared my throat. “Were. When we fought, we resolved it quietly.” 

“Were you?” The detective put the book away as he leaned closer. “Matured people, I mean?”

I arched a brow at him. “If I'm to say so myself. See, EHS students talk a lot. That was a misinformation.” I mumbled.

“We will be the judge of that.” Nwaeze glared at me. 

“Impressive, Seyi. You managed to answer all our questions without giving away anything. Why is that?” Detective Stanley leaned closer again, a brilliant smile on his face.

“Why is that?” 

“Your evasiveness. She was your best friend. You are not telling me anything I haven't already heard. Tell me something new.” He urged.

I blinked twice. “Are you asking me to tell you what I'm not privy to? You asked questions, I answered. I don't know what you are talking about.” 

“Tah, shut up your mouth there!” Detective Nwaeze butted in before his partner could say a word. “By the time we are done with all of you, you people will produce who killed that girl.”

“Tell me, what was she like? Did she have any conflicts with anybody recently?”

I frowned at the question. Grace was a lot of things that I didn't even know what to say. “Grace was a lot of things. A lot of the students here didn't like her. She didn't do anything to them. They just didn't like her but we were friends and I never saw anything wrong with her. Besides, if she had any issues with somebody recently, I didn't know about that.” I explained.

“Was she struggling in any way?”

 “No. Grace can be annoying but girls are generally annoying. She joked around a lot. And she loved to stand out, do her own thing. She also loved to interact with people. She was a very social person so no, I never noticed any struggle.” I answered again.

“Nothing at all with the other students?” He probed.

For a moment, I thought of the energy sucking pest that had recently resumed with us again and debated mentioning it. But Dara had never posed a problem to Grace. She always managed to hold her own. 

“As I said, she wasn't really liked by the other students.” I answered truthfully. 

For a few seconds, silence reigned in the room. Detective Nwaeze had grabbed a pen from the pocket of his shirt to scribble down something into the note while his partner remained seared, quietly scrutinizing me. I tried not to give away how I was feeling while I sat there for those few seconds but in the end, I broke the silence.

“Can I leave now?” 

“Sure,” the silent partner gestured to the door.

I nodded and got on my feet. There was nothing for me to grab so I just shoved my trembling fingers into the pocket of my pants as I walked to the door. Hardly had my fingers grazed the door knob when Detective Stanley's voice froze me in place. 

“No amount of money can save you. I hope you know that,” 

I took in a deep calm breath that felt anything but calming before I turned my neck around with a small smile pasted on my face. It was fake but it would do the job I needed it to do.

“There will be no need to save me, detective Stanley. I didn't do anything.” I said.

His nod was polite. “Of course,” 

I nodded and this time when I turned the door knob, I got out. The moment I stepped out of the office, fresh air that I didn't know I was lacking rushed into my lungs, almost choking me in the process. I coughed lightly, rubbing my sleep deprived eyes, my back resting against the door. 

“Dudeeee,” Saheed called as he jumped up from the seat the moment he saw me walk out from the corner that led to the enquiry room. “Are you okay? Wetin dey ask you?” He asked, his eyes wary.

I straightened as I snatched my bag from his hand, ignoring his inquiring questions. He had been waiting for me at the reception.

“Just the usual,” I shrugged as I slipped on my bag. I didn't want to talk about it so I turned to the woman behind the desk.

“Miss Adam,” I greeted the light skinned woman who glanced up with a playful smile on her face.

“Ah ah, Seyi Seyi. One and only Seyi of EHS. How are you na?” she asked, grinning. I muttered something to her which made her smile broaden. A beat passed before she began to smother me with pitiful expressions. “Eh, I heard about your friend that died. Sorry, you hear? Don't think about it too much.” She told me.

I only managed to pass her a small nod in response before I led the way out of the place. I hated the look on her face. I didn't like to be pitied. I didn't want anybody looking at me with sympathy. I already had enough from my parents.

But this was only just the beginning, was it not?

The living room of the Mofe’s had always been appealing. Yet as I sat on one of their couches sometime later that evening flanked by a few of my setmates which included the senior prefects and other prefects, I thought that the place was anything but appealing. Nothing about it had physically changed but the atmosphere. 

Mr. and Mrs. Mofe, Grace's parents, sat beside each other on the couch opposite us in the enormous living room wearing grief stricken expressions. Their eyes were visibly swollen from tears, their clothes unappealing and distasteful as they nodded through whatever rubbish Onyedika and Mimi were saying to them to ease their hearts on behalf of the entire students body. 

Onyedika finished his lines which I knew must have been rehearsed several times before looking toward Mimi to pick up from there. The senior prefect female sat up on the couch, her hands buried into her skirt before she started to recite her lines to the couple.

I looked away from her seconds later toward the one person I would never have thought that would be here. Dara had barely said a word since we arrived and that was only for the better, believe  me. The stupid girl didn't always know when to keep her mouth shut or when to act so it was a relief that she hadn't opened that infamous mouth of hers to sputter rubbish.

Even though all she had done was to sit where she had been asked to, hands rested on either side of her while she nodded to what her friend was saying, I couldn't help narrowing my eyes at her in anger and suspicion. 

She didn't even like Grace. 

Yet the hypocrite idiot was there acting like she was one of Grace dearest friends.

A sob broke through the room, startling me momentarily and diverting my attention from Dara to the older woman now crying. Tears were springing down her face and she was sobbing loudly while trying to collect herself. Her husband was quick to wrap a supportive hand around her waist to draw her close.

Mimi and Onyedika exchanged quiet glances that I knew were filled with questions. She was probably asking herself what she must have said to cause the woman to break down. As though the entire situation wasn't heart breaking enough.

“You people killed my daughter. You people killed my daughter and yet you come into my house to tell me that the students loved her. My daughter!” Mrs. Mofe slapped her chest once, getting hysterical.

“WHAT DID SHE DO TO YOU ALL? WHAT COULD SHE HAVE DONE TO DESERVE THAT?” The woman wailed, attempting to break free from her husband's hold.

Everyone had gotten up from their seats then, visibly shaken by the pain in her eyes. The pain in both of their eyes as she broke down, crying and screaming at the top of her lungs. 

Mr. Mofe glanced up for a moment while still holding his wife close to his chest. “Please, please don't go yet. Hang around.” He told us.

They all nodded before filing out of the room, anything to get away from the wailing woman ready to scratch their eyes out. I swallowed as I turned to leave the scene when Grace's father glanced my way and beckoned at me to come help him.

“Help me take her to our room,” the older man looked about ready to break down like his wife, his hands shaking as he helped her up, hands wrapped around her waist.

I swallowed as I stood by her side, holding her by her arm like he did. We started out of the living room with the woman still crying loudly, each sound breaking my heart. I had never seen them like this. Never in my ten years of friendship with Grace had I ever seen her parents this distorted. This broken. 

All because of what had happened. 

I nearly stumbled on my feet when we came to the top of the stairs and found Melody, Grace's older sister, sitting there with her boyfriend in silence. Neither of them even blinked as we passed by them on the way to the room. 

“Thank you, Seyi.” 

The older man's voice broke me but I managed a small smile at him before I walked out of the room to give the couple privacy. I blew out a small breath as I stared ahead at Melody and her boyfriend.

As though he knew that I was watching them, he glanced up and looked in my direction. Our eyes locked for a few seconds and he could have fooled me. His blank stare could have fooled me but I wasn't a stranger. He hissed under his breath before he looked away again.

The bastard.

Bastard. Bastard. Bastard!

I wanted to punch him in the face again like I did the other day. I hated him. I hated them all. All of those hypocrites acting like my best friend, Grace Rhythm Mofe, was the dearest person to their heart. They never had anything to say about her. But my ears could have bled if I'd dared to listen to all their lies when they spoke earlier.

A startling sound from the room down the hall had me shifting focus. I frowned as I looked toward Grace's room wondering who was in there. Mr. and Mrs. Mofe were in their rooms. Melody and her boyfriend were glaring at me from where they sat at the stairs. The Mofe’s had no one else in their household. So who was in Grace room?

I gulped down nothing as I started down the hall slowly. I didn't want to go to Grace room. I didn't want to be there at all but I couldn't help myself. I grabbed the door knob and turned it, twisting the door open. I took a step in, my eyes widening at the figure in the room. The last person who should be here.

Her brown eyes widened for a moment from being caught before they relaxed back to normal. She folded her hands against her chest as if to prepare herself from what she knew I would say. I hated her too. And I hated that she was in Grace's room. Dara had no business being here and she knew it but I was ready to indulge her and hear whatever reason her fish brain as Grace would say had thought of this time again.

But when she gazed into the depth of my eyes a second later, I thought that she knew that I hated myself too as I did the others.

I hated myself more.

Author's Note.

I can't count the number of times I've had to write this author's name so I'm quite tired and frustrated. 

I feel like this chapter took this long to exist because I couldn't really get through to Seyi. As we have read, his head is quite messy. And it was a hard place getting into.

Also, channeling his emotions (numbness) into writing was a lot harder than I thought it would be so there is also that.

Please remember that people's perspectives/opinions/views of you doesn't really define you. Seyi is a lot more than you people think and I can't wait to unravel him with y'all.

What are your thoughts on the minor characters in this chapter? 

Seyi himself?

What about his mom?

The detectives and Saheed? 

Are we going to talk about the tension with Melody and her boyfriend with Seyi? 

Mr.& Mrs. Mofe?

And what in heaven's name was Dara doing in Grace room?

Okay, I'm done here for today. I should be seeing you guys soon. Thank you for sticking out with me this far even though we've barely made any progress.❤️❤️❤️