CHARLOTTE

THE CALM BEFORE THE STORM

The rest of my porridge ended up in Billy's bowl.

I wasn't hungry anymore.

As he happily wagged his tail and gobbled it down, I quietly returned to my room and closed the door behind me.

I sat on the edge of my bed, staring at the floor.

Why hadn't Chiamaka told me?

She was my best friend. We'd shared secrets, laughed together, and promised never to hide anything from each other. Yet somehow, I'd found out about her relationship from my own brother instead of from her.

Before I knew it, tears were rolling down my cheeks.

I wiped them away with the back of my hand, almost embarrassed by them.

"Why am I even crying?" I whispered to myself.

To distract myself, I grabbed my laptop and put on Stranger Things. Since my exams were finally over, I figured I deserved to relax.

A few hours later, I heard the front door open.

"Mummy! Daddy!" I called happily as I hurried into the living room.

The familiar smell of antiseptic clung to them, reminding me that they had both come straight from the hospital.

I wrapped my arms tightly around Mum. I had always been a mummy's girl.

"How was your day?" she asked, smiling as she stroked my hair.

"It was fine."

I took the pot of porridge from the kitchen, warmed it in the microwave, and served dinner for both of them.

Mum tasted a spoonful and smiled.

"This is delicious."

I grinned proudly.

"Thank you, Mum."

She looked at me for a moment before asking a question that caught me completely off guard.

"Ofuge... what would you think about living in America?"

I frowned.

"Hmm... I think I'd love it. The snow, the amusement parks, and everything I've seen on TV—it all looks beautiful." I paused before shaking my head. "But I don't think I could leave Nigeria. Everyone I love is here."

Mum exchanged a quiet glance with Dad before smiling again.

"Alright. You and your brother can go to your rooms. Your father and I need to discuss something."

We didn't argue.

As soon as we stepped outside their room, Osariemen leaned closer.

"I think we're moving to America."

I laughed.

"Be serious. Just because Mummy asked me one question doesn't mean we're relocating."

He folded his arms confidently.

"See eh, Ofuge, you're still small. When Dad came to pick us up today, I saw an email on his phone. The sender had an American flag beside it."

I rolled my eyes.

"So? It could've been one Yahoo boy trying to scam him."

He burst out laughing.

"Believe whatever you want. I'm not about to argue with you all night."

He turned and walked into his room.

I stood there for a few seconds, my mind racing.

If we really left Nigeria...

I wouldn't get to confront Chiamaka.

I wouldn't get the chance to tell Julius how I felt.

I sighed, switched off my bedroom light, and crawled into bed.

Sleep came quickly, but the questions in my mind stayed awake.

Saturday marked the beginning of our holiday, but there was no sleeping in for me. In our house, holidays simply meant more chores.

I dragged myself out of bed a little after five. I hadn't slept well. Every time I closed my eyes, thoughts of Chiamaka, Manasseh, and my parents' strange conversation about America came rushing back. Staying in bed wasn't going to help, so I decided to keep myself busy.

I started by making my bed before sweeping and mopping my room. My dirty clothes went straight into the washing machine while I cleaned the living room, the dining room, the kitchen, and the smaller sitting room. By the time I'd scrubbed the guest bathrooms, my arms ached and my back begged for mercy.

Just then, my brother wandered out of his room, rubbing sleep from his eyes. He stopped for a second and stared at me, one eyebrow raised.

I knew exactly what he was thinking.

Why is Ofuge awake this early on a Saturday?

Honestly, I didn't know either.

Ignoring his curious look, I carried the basket of freshly washed clothes outside and spread them carefully on the clothesline. When I finished, I stayed there for a while, letting the cool morning breeze brush against my skin. The compound was unusually quiet. Birds chirped somewhere beyond our fence, and the fresh scent of wet earth filled the air.

Normally, moments like this made me feel at peace.

Today, they didn't.

I didn't know what to believe anymore.

My brother insisted Chiamaka and Manasseh were still together, yet yesterday she'd been talking about Senior Ambrose like she was completely over him. Had she lied to me? Or was my brother the one who didn't know they'd broken up?

Then there was America.

Maybe my parents were only considering it. Maybe they wouldn't even get their visas. The whole process could take months... maybe even longer.

Which meant I still had time.

Time to talk to Chiamaka.

Time to understand what was really going on.

By the time I returned inside, the delicious smell of fried akara welcomed me.

I followed the aroma into the dining room, where my brother was happily eating akara and custard as if he didn't have a care in the world. The golden-brown akara looked perfectly crispy, and the warm, milky custard made my stomach growl.

Only then did I realise I hadn't eaten all morning.

Mum had already served my breakfast, so I carried my plate to the table and sat beside him.

He continued eating without even looking at me.

I smiled sweetly.

"You know you're the best brother in the whole world, right? I love you more than anything."

He paused, slowly turned to me, and narrowed his eyes.

"What do you want, Ofuge?"

I placed a hand dramatically on my chest.

"What? Can't I compliment my only brother?"

He smirked.

"Good. Because I don't have anything to give you."

He picked up his plate and stood to leave.

"Wait!" I grabbed his arm before he could escape.

He sighed dramatically.

"I knew it."

"Please..." I stretched the word. "Can I borrow your phone to call Chiamaka?"

Instead of answering, he folded his arms.

"And what exactly are you willing to give in exchange?"

I frowned.

Couldn't he be a nice brother for once?

I crossed my own arms.

"How about I don't tell Dad you left school with Senior Ambrose and his friends last week?"

His confident smile disappeared.

"So... you've been spying on me?"

I shrugged.

"I see things."

He stared at me for a few seconds before shaking his head with a laugh.

"Fine. Since blackmail is apparently your love language, you have fifteen minutes."

A grin spread across my face.

"Thank you!"

"Use thirteen. I'm feeling generous."

My breakfast suddenly tasted twice as nice.

That afternoon, Mum and Dad travelled to Lagos, leaving just my brother and me at home.

The moment their car disappeared through the gate, I grabbed his Samsung phone before he could change his mind.

I dialled Chiamaka's number.

It rang once.

Twice.

Three times.

Finally, she answered.

"Hello?"

"Chiamaka! It's me."

"Ofuge?" she sounded surprised. "Whose phone are you using?"

"My brother's."

"Oh."

There was a brief silence.

"Can you come to my house today?" I asked quietly.

Another pause.

"Of course. Let me ask my mum first."

I waited, nervously tapping my fingers against the table.

After a minute, she returned.

"She said yes. I'll be there by two."

Relief washed over me.

"Okay. I'll be waiting."

We ended the call.

I carefully placed the phone back on the table and smiled to myself.

By two o'clock, I'd finally have the answers I'd been searching for.

Or at least... that's what I thought.