Star's hiccups sliced through the silence like a warning bell.
"Star? Star!" Mandume rushed to her side, startled to see her coughing.
Bonita was already halfway to the kitchen. She returned with a glass of water. "Here, drink."
Star sipped slowly, the coughing eased.
Mandume hovered, visibly rattled. Star squinted at him. "You look worried… what happened?"
"Ah… no, I mean—" Mandume stumbled over his words.
Bonita stepped in. "Yes, you fainted. Everyone's been worried. But don't stress, the doctor said you'll be fine. He's coming to check on you tomorrow."
"I fainted?" Star rubbed her temples. "But I was talking to you… wasn't I?"
"Yes," Mandume nodded quickly. "But it's nothing major. The baby's okay. There were just… complications."
"What complications? What did the doctor say exactly?" Star narrowed her eyes. She saw it now—Mandume was holding back.
Bonita, deflecting, presented a covered plate. "You must be starving. I brought you food."
Star stared. Her voice dropped. "Why is she in my room… and why is she giving me food? I haven't eaten anything today… certainly not from her."
Mandume interrupted gently, "Star, just eat. We'll explain everything after."
She glanced between them, suspicious but worn out. "God… please let this not be my last meal," she muttered, then took the food and ate in silence.
After a few bites, Mandume asked, "Feeling okay?"
"Yep. Totally fine!" Star chirped, her energy back. Bonita grinned and hugged her.
"You'll be alright," Bonita said.
Star froze in the hug, perplexed but played along. When the meal was done, she pushed her plate aside. "So. What happened?"
Bonita looked to Mandume.
He took a breath. "The doctor said… you have mutism."
"Mutism?" Star blinked. "Is that like malnutrition? I mean, I'm not that skinny."
Bonita stifled a laugh.
"No, no," Mandume chuckled nervously. "It's when someone goes mute from emotional shock—like extreme fear or excitement."
"You went silent right before fainting," Bonita added.
Star's brows knitted. "So nothing else is wrong?"
She fell quiet, whispering more to herself than them. "Wait… does that mean I didn't tell him the truth? He doesn't know…"
Mandume, beaming, said, "Told you, sis! Once she hears she's fine, she's fine."
Bonita shifted awkwardly. "Star, I—I never got to apologize. For pushing you that day at college… I was a jerk. I'm so sorry."
"In most cases, we call boys jerks," Star quipped. "But look at you—barely 0.000009% jerk."
Bonita laughed nervously. "Thanks?"
"I forgave you a long time ago. You're my sister now, right?"
They hugged again.
"Are we good?" Bonita asked.
"Absolutely."
Later that evening, while everyone gathered in the living room for the news, Star caught a shadow slipping toward her room. Quietly, she followed.
Inside her room, Maria rifled through drawers.
"Looking for something?" Star said coolly, leaning on the doorframe.
"Where is it?" Maria barked. "Where's the gun?"
"What gun?" Star played dumb, sitting casually on her bed.
"Don't act like you don't know what I'm talking about. Hand it over."
"If I knew, I wouldn't need clarification, would I?" Star crossed her legs.
"Give it or else—"
"Else what, Mrs. Davids? Gonna kill me? Inject me with madness? Kick me out?"
Maria flinched.
"I'll save you the suspense," Star said. "You do want the gun. Because it belongs to someone way more dangerous than you."
Star stood, reached behind a vent, and pulled it out.
"Here," she said—then pulled it back before Maria could touch it.
"But not so fast. Nice things come with hardship, right? I've got a game for you. Two, actually. You pick the one that saves your reputation."
Maria eyed her warily.
"Option one: I give you blank sheets. You write 'Mr. Davids is coming back' on them in big letters and post them around the house tonight. Everyone wakes up thinking God answered your prayers."
Maria's eyes narrowed.
"Option two: during breakfast, you tell the whole truth. About Mr. Davids. About everything. You walk free, and I return the gun."
Maria stepped forward, fury building.
"Do I look like a player to you, Star?"
"Slow down. I'm not scared anymore. You either play or I destroy this gun. And I doubt your partner—Romero?—would like that."
Maria froze, shaken.
"You'll regret this," she whispered and stormed off.
"Didn't pick your game, huh? Good choice," Star murmured, folding her arms.
Then, quietly, "Lord, I'm not cut out for these games… I just want to find Mr. Davids. Be on my side, please."
She eyed the gun.
"So this belongs to Romero—or Kefas?"
Then her mind sparked. "How do I make her talk without tipping off Mandume…? Wait—I've got it."
She left, placing the gun under her jacket. As she closed the door, she felt eyes on her. She turned, but saw nothing—only the living room crowd, except Maria.
Star grinned and headed to Mandume.
Unbeknownst to her, Maria, who had been spying, slipped back into Star's room. But the bed was empty.
"She put it here… I saw her put it here!" Maria hissed, pulling at the blankets in a frenzy. "This girl's a damn witch!"