The night pressed itself against the windows like a heavy shroud. Inside the apartment, silence wrapped around the three girls as they slept in their different corners. But Mariam wasn't asleep.
Her eyes stayed wide open, fixed on the ceiling, her heart pounding as though it had been rehearsing this moment all her life. She turned her face slightly toward Tessa's bed, then toward Ayisha's mattress on the other side. Both were sound asleep. She sat up carefully, the mattress creaking under her weight. Her breath hitched. She froze, listening. But neither stirred.
Her hand trembled as she reached for the envelope she had hidden beneath her pillow earlier in the evening. The cheque. Her cheque. Her future. She had stared at it for days, thinking, convincing herself she could keep waiting, convincing herself she could continue living under Tessa's shadow. But tonight, it was too heavy. She couldn't bear it anymore.
She slid off the bed, her bare feet landing soundlessly on the cold tiles. The apartment felt like it was watching her, each creak of the floor echoing like betrayal. She tiptoed to the table in the living room, picked up the pen she had left there, and carefully unfolded the sheet of paper she had written on earlier.
Her letter.
She placed the cheque inside the folded paper, then paused. Her chest tightened as though invisible ropes were binding her ribs. Tessa had been nothing but kind to her. Ayisha too, in her own carefree, shameless way. But Mariam told herself this was survival. And in survival, kindness could not outweigh opportunity.
Her eyes glistened, but she blinked hard and set the letter on the table where they could find it in the morning. She stepped back, then walked toward the door, one step at a time. When her hand gripped the knob, her whole body stiffened. She thought she heard Tessa stir.
Her breath caught in her throat. She stood frozen for five long seconds.
Then silence returned.
Without another moment wasted, Mariam twisted the knob slowly, opened the door, and slipped into the hallway.
The door shut with a click.
***
By morning, the sun had slid gently through the curtains, spilling gold over the room. Tessa woke first. She stretched, her body aching with exhaustion. The first thing she noticed was Mariam's empty bed.
She frowned.
"Mariam?" she called softly. No answer. She checked the bathroom, then the balcony. Nothing.
Her chest tightened.
Ayisha was still sprawled on her mattress, one arm dangling, snoring lightly. Tessa glanced at her, irritation boiling. "Where is she?" she muttered under her breath.
Ayisha stirred awake and yawned loudly. "What's all the noise for? Some of us need our beauty sleep."
Tessa ignored her and began moving around the apartment, opening cupboards, checking corners, as though Mariam would suddenly pop out. Her hands trembled, her steps rushed. She felt it in her bones—something was wrong.
Then her eyes fell on the paper sitting on the table. The letter.
Her blood turned cold. She walked to it slowly, her legs heavy as though weights were tied to her ankles. She picked it up, her hands shaking so badly the paper almost slipped from her grasp.
She opened it.
Her eyes scanned the words. Her lips trembled as she read out loud, her voice thin, almost breaking:
Tessa… Ayisha…
I can't do this anymore. I need to take my own path, even if it means leaving without goodbyes. I've taken my cheque. Don't hate me. I hope you understand someday. I'm sorry.
The last two words looked rushed, smeared, as though written through tears.
By the time Tessa reached the end, her eyes burned. She wiped at her cheek quickly, furious at herself for letting the tears escape. Betrayal cut through her chest sharper than a knife. She had trusted Mariam. She had taken her out of the camp, shared food with her, shared her bed with her, defended her even when Ayisha made jokes. And this was her reward.
Ayisha, now fully awake, leaned over Tessa's shoulder to peep at the letter. The corners of her mouth curled up in a smirk.
"So she really carried her cheque and ran away?" Ayisha laughed, clapping her hands together in mock delight. "I knew it! That woman has always had that sneaky eye. And she didn't even pack her clothes. Imagine! Who runs away and leaves all their things behind? Oh I know, a woman that hasn't seen twenty million before."
Tessa turned to her slowly, her face flushed with both anger and hurt. "You think this is funny?"
Ayisha shrugged, laughter still bubbling in her throat. "It is funny. She fooled us both. But come on, Tess, what did you expect? You thought everybody is loyal like a dog? Pfft."
Tessa said nothing. She walked into the kitchen, her shoulders heavy. She reached for the pot, poured rice into water, and placed it on the stove. Cooking was the only thing that could steady her trembling hands right now. The sound of the stove clicking and the hiss of the flame grounded her.
But Ayisha wasn't done. She strolled into the kitchen, leaned against the counter, arms crossed. "So what now? You'll cry all day because Mariam left? If you ask me, she was dead weight anyway."
Tessa stirred the pot, refusing to look at her. "If you feel the same way, you can leave too."
Her voice was calm, but laced with steel.
Ayisha blinked. "Excuse me?"
"You heard me." Tessa turned finally, her eyes sharp even though her lashes were still wet with tears. "If you think this is all just a game, if you think loyalty means nothing, you can pack up and go. I won't stop you."
For the first time that morning, Ayisha's laughter died. She stared at Tessa, almost offended. Then she shook her head and stepped closer. "Tessa, stop. I was only joking. You think I'd leave you? Nah. I may laugh, but I'm not Mariam or Chloe. I'm not going anywhere. You're stuck with me."
Tessa held her gaze for a long moment. Slowly, she nodded, though her chest still ached.
Silence hung between them as the rice boiled, the smell of steam filling the air.
A knock came at the door was heard.
Sharp. Firm.
Both women turned their heads at once.
Tessa's heart leapt into her throat. She dropped the spoon into the pot and wiped her hands quickly on a cloth. "It's her," she whispered, hope sparking in her chest like a flame. "It has to be Mariam. She came back."
Ayisha raised a brow. "Or maybe it's the landlord with another set of new rules."
But Tessa wasn't listening. She rushed out of the kitchen, her steps fast, almost stumbling as she hurried to the door. She pressed her palm to her chest, her lips moving in silent prayer.
Please let it be Mariam. Please. Please.
She unlocked the door and pulled it open—
Only to freeze.
Standing there, dressed elegantly in a silk blouse and dark skirt, her lips painted crimson and her presence filling the hallway like royalty, was Lady Bianca.
Tessa's heart plummeted to the pit of her stomach.
The world seemed to tilt.
Lady Bianca. Not Mariam.