21/07/2025
Episode 3
Night had fallen like a velvet curtain over Ebenezer Street. Even the generator had gone silent a rare blessing that left the compound bathed in moonlight and soft, tinny glow from distant street lamps.
Chioma paced her small living room, every sound amplified: her own heartbeat, the rustle of palm leaves outside, and the faint hum of insects. She couldn’t stop thinking about that flicker of light in Flat 7B.
Gathering courage, she grabbed a flashlight and tiptoed toward Jumoke’s door. She paused at 7A’s threshold, took a deep breath, then stepped out.
Her slippers slapped softly against the concrete as she crossed the courtyard. She raised her flashlight to the door lock—still firmly shut.
“Jumoke?” she whispered. “It’s me, Chioma.”
Silence.
Chioma pressed her ear to the door, flashlight trained on the keyhole. Inside, she thought she heard… a whisper.
She jumped back. The whisper came again, low and uneven, like someone afraid to speak:
“Chi…oh…ma….”
Chioma’s breath caught. That sounded like her name.
She steadied her nerves and circled around to the window above Jumoke’s door. It was a tiny, barred opening just big enough for her to crouch and peer in.
Inside, the room was dark except for that same trembling light, now at the far corner.
It glowed in short bursts, as if someone was texting or… signaling?
Through the narrow gap, Chioma glimpsed the shape of a person slumped on the floor near the bed, phone in hand.
Jumoke’s hair was loose, hiding her face.
“Jumoke!” Chioma hissed, pounding on the walls. “Open up!”
No answer, only the faint sound of ragged breathing.
Chioma’s mind raced. She needed help. But calling the caretaker again might alert whoever was inside if it was someone else.
She weighed her options and decided to fetch Doctor Emeka, the safe, level-headed tenant from Flat 7C.
Her feet moved before her mind caught up.
She dashed to 7C, pounding on his door.
“Doctor Emeka, come quick! Something’s wrong with Jumoke!”
Moments later, the door opened. Emeka’s white coat was draped over his arm. “Calm down, Chioma. Tell me.”
Chioma swallowed. “I heard her whisper my name… and I saw light inside her room. She’s hurt or trapped.”
Emeka’s face hardened. “Show me.”
He grabbed his duffel bag inside, medical tools and followed her back.
At 7B, Emeka tested the door. “Locked from inside,” he muttered. Then he motioned for Chioma to step back as he tried the key again. Nothing.
He knelt, placing an ear to the door. “She’s barely breathing… weak.”
Chioma’s chest tightened. “We have to get in.”
Emeka nodded. “I’ll find another way.”
He circled to the back of the building, toward the narrow service passage where the compound’s old fire escape stood unused. Chioma followed close behind, heart pounding like a drum.
The rusty ladder creaked as they climbed. Emeka shone his flashlight on the upper windows. Jumoke’s window sat just beyond reach sealed shut. But there was a small ventilation vent below it, with a grille of bent slats.
“Help me with this,” Emeka whispered.
Together they pried the grille free. A rush of stale air met them. Through the vent, they saw Jumoke’s blurred figure on the floor, phone light dancing on the ceiling.
Emeka reached in and handed Chioma her pink extension cord whatever small comfort it would bring. Then he called through the vent in a firm voice: “Jumoke, I’m Dr. Emeka. Can you speak?”
For a moment nothing. Then, faintly:
“Help… please…”
Chioma’s eyes filled with tears. She pressed her hand to the grille. “We’re here, Jumoke.”
Emeka slipped a stethoscope through the vent, listening. Then he said under his breath, “She’s alive but dehydrated… maybe knocked out. We need to break in.”
Chioma swallowed her fear. “Do it.”
Emeka braced his shoulder and kicked. The vent panel splintered, sending shards of metal clattering to the floor below.
Chioma jumped back as Emeka swung the grille aside.
Inside the dark room, the flashlight revealed Jumoke’s pale face, beads of sweat on her brow, and a bruise forming on her temple.
“Jumoke, it’s Chioma,” Chioma whispered, kneeling beside her. “You’re safe now.”
Jumoke’s eyelids fluttered. The light went out. And then footsteps.
Heavy, measured, coming from deep within the room.
Chioma froze. Emeka grabbed his flashlight and swung it toward the far wall.
A shadow moved. Slowly.
A shape stepped out from behind a closet door…
Who is lurking inside Jumoke’s room? And what danger awaits Chioma and Emeka?
To be continued...
