Randi Town looked dilapidated after just one stormy night. The rain had subsided, but the streets remained flooded. Overflowing drainages formed narrow, ferocious rivers cutting across the town. Rescue operations were underway everywhere, a desperate response to the storm's aftermath.
The major disaster involved a ship traveling from a neighboring country. It was carrying fifty-eight passengers when the storm struck. The ship capsized just one kilometer from Randi Pier. Eight people were confirmed dead, forty were rescued, and ten remained missing.
Ambulances raced toward the hospital, their sirens splitting the air, signaling another casualty—or several. From a distance, the wail of another ambulance grew louder. The ambulances brought both the living and the dead. Some lives had been abruptly cut short by the storm. Some fought for their survival. Some were treated and released.
Doctors and medics moved like soldiers under fire, their voices rising and falling against the backdrop of crying children and groaning men and women. The hospital reeked of blood and disinfectant. For the next two days, this was the grim reality: Sirens wailed, stretchers rolled through the corridors, machines beeped urgently. Mothers sobbed in the waiting rooms. Fathers clung to hope.
The hospital became overwhelmed. Beds overflowed into the hallways, and every doctor and intern managed at least one patient. Trainees were assigned the milder cases.
The hospital management decided to disrupt Megyn's schedule at the registry. They urgently needed her assistance with the influx of patients. She was immediately posted to casualty but returned to the registry by Friday that week.
That Friday evening, just before Megyn retired to bed, communication services were finally restored.
Benjamin thought of his aunt and her wise advice back then. His aunt, Doctor Lucia Mambo, was a woman of noble character—admired by everyone who met her. Besides, she was an excellent medical doctor, trusted deeply by her patients. Benjamin vividly remembered his childhood with her. His parents had raised Lucia after her own parents—Benjamin's maternal grandparents—were found dead in a mysterious car wreck after a stormy afternoon. The official report said it was lightning. At the time, Lucia had just completed her primary school exams and was waiting to join City Girls National School. She was only fourteen. Benjamin had been five years old—too young to understand what had happened. He only knew that his beloved grandparents had gone to their upcountry home for an occasion and, suddenly, they were placed in "long drawers" and buried underground. He never saw them again. Life was never the same. But one thing he knew for sure: he was happy to have Aunt Lucia living with them. Lucia became both a sister and an aunt to him. She had always been the first to know his secrets—even when he had his first girlfriend in high school. He could still hear her words from back then:
"Benjie, I'd advise you to leave this girlfriend-boyfriend business for the future. At least finish high school first. Good girls will come your way."
Because of her advice, Benjamin had never pursued any girl seriously—perhaps because none truly captured his heart. Instead, he had drifted, letting himself float in the sea of attention girls threw his way. He wasn't sure if she would believe him now—even though she was the one who had arranged his first meeting with Megyn.
He remembered their conversation that day. She was attending a medical symposium in South Africa.
"What do you say about Megyn?" she had asked. "Aunty, I love her," he had said without hesitation.
Perhaps it had slipped out too quickly, Doctor Lucia thought. There was a long pause on the other end of the line.
"Benjamin, what do you think about Megyn?" she asked again, this time in a calm manner that startled him.
He sighed, composed himself, and replied,
"Aunty, you were right. I like Megyn. I don't know her that much yet, but I feel a connection with her. You know? Soulmates?"
"Well, I love you, Benjamin, because you are my nephew, and I love her too, like my daughter," she said warmly. Then, clearing her throat, she added, "I do not want any heartbreaks. Okay?"
"Okay, Auntie. No heartbreaks," Benjamin replied, a wide grin lighting up his face.
Benjamin had expected Megyn to wish him "journey mercies." But she didn't respond to the text he sent before his nine-hour flight. Neither did she reply to the message informing her of his safe arrival in London. She was also inaccessible on calls. He knew that the lines of communication in Randi had been disrupted by the storm, so he tried to understand. At least he had settled into the hostel, registered for his course units, and followed up with his insurance—an enormous relief.
He was still trying to find his bearings at college, locating lecture rooms and halls. Lectures had not yet begun. The week was busy but worth it.
Lying in bed, Benjamin glanced at the bedside clock. Quarter past midnight. He couldn't sleep. His mind kept drifting to Megyn—her laughter, her curious gaze, the thoughtful way she paused before speaking... The images looped in his mind like an unfinished song.
He hadn't spoken to Megyn in almost a week—not since Sunday. Reason? She was inaccessible—and he didn't want to scare her by being too persistent.
Awake and restless, every sound in the room became vivid: The ticking clock. The police siren outside. His own breathing. His pounding heartbeat.
He missed her. One week—and yet she still occupied his mind. He had to do something. With a sigh, he sat up, scratched his neatly shaven beard, and reached for his phone. He stared at the screen for a long moment before opening the chat.
Finally, she had replied.
'Hi Benjamin. Have you settled well? Sorry I didn't respond to your texts immediately but yes—here I am...' —Megyn
He hadn't checked before going to bed, perhaps out of fear—fear of being disappointed to find no message from her. But now, the blinking cursor on his phone urged him. He sent a quick text:
'Are you asleep, Gazelle?' —Benjamin
No reply. He hesitated, then decided to call her. His heart pounded as he searched for her number. One, two, three rings—but the call went unanswered.
Meanwhile, Megyn had gone to bed early that Friday night. Cindy wasn't available, so after work, Megyn returned home alone. The week had been emotionally and physically exhausting—especially the last two days in casualty. And Friday had been particularly grueling.
Terry had been in a foul mood, doing almost nothing, leaving Megyn to shoulder all the work. Megyn had overheard her colleague on a phone call, speaking in a dejected tone:
"Our names rhyme, Terry and Jerry…So you won't even consider giving it a try…I see…Mm...But when you finally realize what's in my heart for you, it'll be too late...It's no use…We'll see."
Terry had then thrown her cell phone onto the table, picked up her bag, and left for the day—sobbing.
Megyn thought, Terry? Jerry? Cindy had once worried about a woman named Terry. So—it was Terry Mumbi!
When Cindy called later to say she would be attending a function across town with Jerry, Megyn felt uneasy.
"Please find out who this Terry is to the doctor before you immerse yourself deeply into this relationship," Megyn had warned.
"Don't worry. I'm alert and observant," Cindy had reassured her.
That had comforted her—then.
Now, lying in bed, Megyn plugged in her phone charger and lay back against her pillow, staring at the ceiling. It had been one week since Benjamin left. One week without hearing his deep, comforting voice.
She had read his last two text messages:
My Gazelle, I'll be on board in the next five minutes... My Gazelle, I just landed—safe and sound.
She hadn't responded. She wasn't sure why. Maybe she didn't want to encourage something she wasn't ready for. Maybe she feared where it might lead.
She sighed, looked at her phone again, and quickly typed a reply before forcing herself to close her eyes. She needed sleep.
In her dream, she was in church, listening to the Avalon Singers:
"You were there, you were there…"
The music faded, and she woke up. Her phone was ringing. She switched on the bedside lamp and glanced at the clock.
Quarter past two.
Who would be calling at this hour? Cindy? Was she in trouble?
Panicking, she grabbed the phone without a second thought. But it wasn't Cindy's voice. It was a familiar, deep male voice.
It was Benjamin.