HÊR CURSE

Chapter 6: What Do You Know?

The streetlight died right as Collins said my name.

“Jimmy Adeyemi. What did you do to Tessa?”

His phone was still in his hand, screen glowing. Recording? Calling someone? I couldn’t tell. All I could see was Tessa’s dead weight in my arms and the black veins crawling up her skin like they were in a hurry.

I didn’t answer. Couldn’t. If I opened my mouth I’d either beg or lie badly.

Collins read my face fast. His jaw tightened. “She looks like hell. Get her inside. Now. We talk after.”

He didn’t wait for me. He turned and pushed through the clinic’s glass doors, holding them open with his shoulder.

I had no other move.

The ER smelled like antiseptic and old coffee. It was quiet at 2 AM except for the hum of the machines. Collins was already barking orders before I’d laid Tessa on the bed.

“BP, pulse, O2. Now. Get a line in her.”

“Found her in an alley,” I said, the lie coming out smoother than it should have. “She was attacked. I think she hit her head.”

Collins didn’t look at me. He was pulling Tessa’s sleeve up, checking her arm. When he saw the mark, his hands stopped for half a second.

His face went blank. Not shocked. Recognizing.

“What is that?” he asked quietly.

“Some kind of bruise,” I said. “She’s diabetic. Maybe it’s infection.”

It was a bad lie. Collins knew it. He didn’t call me on it. He just turned back to the nurse and said, “Run a full panel. Stat. And get neurology on standby.”

For twenty seconds, things looked normal. Boring, even. The monitor beeped steady. Her breathing was shallow but even.

Then the line went flat.

The alarm cut through the room like a blade.

“Tessa!” I shouted, moving forward before the nurse could stop me.

Collins was already there. He shoved me back with his forearm and started compressions, counting under his breath. “Nurse, epi 1 mg IV. Now!”

“Clear!”

The defibrillator pads were coming down.

I couldn’t breathe. This was my fault. All of it.

And then the monitor beeped.

Once. Twice. A steady, infuriating rhythm.

Her heart had restarted on its own. No shock. No drugs. Nothing.

The room went quiet except for the beeping. Collins’ hands were still on her chest. He looked down at her, then at her arm. The mark hadn’t moved, but the skin around it was colder than it should be.

“That’s not normal,” Collins said. He said it low, like he didn’t want anyone else to hear. Then he turned to me. “Jimmy. What are you not telling me?”

I opened my mouth. Closed it.

“I don’t know,” I said. It was half true. “I found her like that.”

Collins stared at me for a long time. The kind of stare that strips you down and checks what’s underneath.

“We’ll talk,” he said finally. He stepped back, letting the nurses take over. “I’m on night shift till 7 AM. You and I talk before you leave. Don’t make me find you.”

He walked out, leaving me with the sound of Tessa’s breathing and the guilt sitting heavy in my chest.

I pulled a chair to her bedside and sat. Her face looked peaceful now. Too peaceful. Like she wasn’t here.

I reached out, almost touched the mark on her arm, then stopped. The last time I touched it, she screamed.

For a minute, nothing happened.

Then it moved.

Just half a centimeter. The black veins crept closer to her shoulder, slow and deliberate, like it was testing if I was watching.

My phone buzzed in my pocket.

I pulled it out with shaking hands. Unknown number.

Message preview on the lock screen:

*“I miss you, Jimmy.”*

Mira’s old number.

My blood went cold.

Mira’s been dead for eight months.