Bonita stood in front of Tiffanie's house, her brows furrowed. The windows were closed, the gate locked—a silence that felt deeply unfamiliar. She knocked, waited, then knocked again.
Nothing.
She lingered by the gate, arms folded, scanning for a sign of life. Just as she turned to leave, a voice startled her.
"Hello?" came a man's voice from behind the wall. A tall, unfamiliar guardsman stepped out.
Bonita's heart skipped. "Oh! Hi… sir, uh…" She tried to compose herself.
The guard looked at her suspiciously. "What are you doing here?"
"I'm Tiffanie's friend. Please… can you tell her I'm looking for her?"
The guard raised an eyebrow. "Tiffanie? She left for the weekend with her friends. How come you're not with them?"
"Friends?" Bonita echoed, confused. "She has new friends?"
"Don't know if they're new or old. All I know is—they left, and they're not back yet."
Bonita's heart sank. Her chest tightened as she processed his words.
Tiffanie has new friends? Did she really move on without me?
Her voice trembled. "Can I at least speak to her mom?"
"She's not back either. Had a night shift. She usually gets home around 8 a.m."
The guardsman's tone softened when he noticed her tears. "Hey… are you okay?"
"I'm fine," she lied, wiping her face quickly. "Please, just tell them Bonita was here."
He nodded. "I will."
Bonita walked away, shoulders heavy with emotion.
Tiffanie moved on… and I'm still stuck on her like some cursed gum on the soul of my shoe. Why? I'm not even gay, so why does this hurt so much?
She bit her lip. Why do I need to explain myself so badly? I'm not a murderer, Tiffanie. I may have taken what was mine by force… but I have nothing now. Nothing at all. Please understand me…
Tears blurred her vision as she made her way to school.
Later that morning, outside the hospital, Mandume's company car pulled in.
Christine kissed her grandson's forehead. "Good luck, my child," she whispered, handing over her blessings. Mandume smiled and drove Star to the hospital for her ANC appointment.
"Aren't you leaving?" Star asked, watching him unbuckle but not move. "You're getting late."
"I woke up early for a reason," he said. "I want to witness your first sonography."
"You think they'll do it this early?"
"It's a private hospital, Star. They'll likely start with that."
Star's face fell at the word hospital, and a shadow passed through her eyes.
That memory—Maria bribing Dr. Mathews to abort her child—still haunted her.
"Aww… that reminds me," she said quietly. "Mendu… whatever happens today, please be by my side… not as a boyfriend. Just as a friend."
Mandume looked her in the eyes. "I'm always here, Star. You don't have to carry this alone."
They were called in.
Inside the sonography room, the doctor greeted them with a smile. "Mr. Davids, I heard congratulations are in order. Madam, please lie on the bed."
They froze.
"I mean… this is your wife, right?" The doctor asked casually, filling in the form.
"No, doctor—" Star began, but the doctor handed the form to Mandume.
"Well, someone has to fill this in."
Star shot a glance at Mandume. "Just leave the 'spouse' section blank," she muttered. "Doctor, is that allowed?"
The doctor nodded, setting up the sonar.
"This baby… will look a lot like Mr. Davids," the doctor said while scanning her belly.
Star stared in disbelief. "Mendu! Please—doctor, Mandume is just my friend!"
Without a word, Mandume signed the form, right in front of her.
Star's blood boiled. "What the hell are you doing?!"
"Star, lie down. And shut your mouth," he snapped.
"I'm not your wife!" she hissed. But she couldn't get off the bed. She clenched her fists, powerless.
"Proceed," Mandume told the doctor.
The doctor began his examination. "Six months along… blood test is positive… placenta looks weak…"
"Ma'am, are you on any medication?" he asked.
Star hesitated. "No…"
The doctor raised an eyebrow. "Did you try to abort the child?"
Shock rippled through the room. Star turned pale.
Mandume was frozen.
"She's on medication," he said, regaining composure. "She has mutism."
The doctor frowned. "Mutism?"
"Yes, fear-induced. She was medicated on Saturday."
The doctor folded his arms. "Mutism doesn't have medication."
Mandume's brows furrowed. "What? Dr. Mathews gave her pills—white ones, remember, Star?"
"…Yeah," Star replied, faintly.
"Who's your doctor again?"
"Dr. Mathews," Mandume confirmed.
The doctor's tone turned sharp. "Mathews knows better. There's no pill treatment for mutism. Whatever he gave her, it's weakening her placenta. If she continues taking them… she'll miscarry. And possibly die. She looks too weak to survive that."
Mandume went rigid.
"There must be a mistake," he argued. "He's qualified! I even told him she was pregnant before the mutism diagnosis."
"Mendu, please…" Star said softly. "Maybe he just… got confused. People mess up."
"No!" Mandume snapped. "A mistake this serious? This is a setup!"
Star stiffened. He's right… it was a setup.
"Who would conspire against me, Mendu?"
"I'll find out."
"Let's just move forward carefully," she whispered. "Now that we know."
The doctor wrapped up. "Apart from that, the baby's fine. Just stop taking those pills. I'll prescribe vitamins and supplements. Here's your follow-up schedule."
"Thank you, doctor," Star said, barely audible.