Once again, I'd awakened on this very bed with no memories of how I got here. This time, though, I knew where I was, and that I was safe.
While Farah paced the room, Raheem sat beside me, his gaze flying through the open window. My hand twitched as I made to shift into a more cozy position. But then, something soft tightened around it. I gazed at my hand, enveloped by Raheem's.
"You're awake!" he said.
Farah rushed to my side. "Vicky. Thank goodness you're awake. I was so worried. What happened? Everything was fine till I mentioned Havana."
Havana club. Boko Haram. Bombing. Death. It all came back to me.
My mind drifted back to a conversation I'd had with Cynthia moments before she left for the party.
'I don't feel good about you partying so late at night,' I'd said.
And then came a voice I feared I'd never hear again. 'For Christ's sake, Victoria, stop acting like I'm a kid. I will be alright. Really. Havana is my second house. Nothing can go wrong there. And besides, I need some time away from all the drama in this house. I need to distract myself. I can't keep dwelling on mum's inhumanity. It breaks me. Which is why I really don't want to spend the night here. Anywhere but here.'
Snatching my hand from Raheem's, I leapt to my feet. "I need to go to the hospital. My sister could be among the injured. Or worse...dead."
"Oh my God!" Farah gasped. "Are you certain that-"
Raheem raised his palm, cutting her off. "When mum comes back, tell her Victoria and I left for the hospital."