The house was quiet. It was the kind of quiet that makes you hear your own heartbeat. It was around 3am. I remember because I had just turned over to check the time on my kabambe phone when the voice came.It was her voice.“Serah, toka. Usingoje kufa.”Clear. Soft. Familiar. It was Joyce. My sister. The one we buried three years ago.
The one who had warned me about marrying Patrick.My chest became tight. I could not breathe properly. I sat up in bed. Patrick was snoring, turned the other way. His hand was twitching, like someone fighting in a dream.I wanted to believe it was just a nightmare. But deep inside, I knew it was real.To read more, click here
