Chapter Five

Kayode was just beginning to fall asleep when the doorbell rang. He grumbled, dragging himself off the sofa, irritated by the intrusion. It was only 6:30 a.m, and rain still patterned steadily against the windows.

He had left Funmi in his room hours ago and wandered to the living room to distract himself with the news, hoping it would dull the ache of her presence. Her image, curled up under his fur blanket, so fragile and oddly perfect, had haunted him until sleep knocked him out.

And now someone was banging like they were on a mission.

He almost ignored it, but the possibility that it could be James with test results yanked him fully awake. He hurried to the door, dread tightening his chest.

Standing at the threshold was the very last person he wanted to see right now—his elder brother, Soji.

Oh no.

Soji didn’t speak. He stepped in briskly, his face mask in place, the look in his eyes sharp and assessing. Kayode led the way back into the living room, bracing for impact.

“Good morning,” Kayode muttered, slumping onto the couch.

“What is good about it?” Soji’s voice was clipped.

Kayode rubbed his eyes. “Ija ni? Are we fighting? Sit down, brother.”

“I will not sit,” Soji snapped. “Or touch anything in this house. For all we know, the virus is dancing in the air and you’re prancing around like you’re immune. What do you think this is—Marvel Universe?”

“Bro na, you’re blowing this thing out of proportion,” Kayode said, getting up to brew coffee, mostly to buy time. Soji, of course, followed him into the kitchen.

“Where is the woman?” Soji asked.

Kayode exhaled.

“Kayode, answer me!”

“Coffee? Tea?” he deflected again.

“I see you’re not taking this seriously,” Soji scoffed and stormed out of the kitchen. “When Mummy gets here, you’ll explain this madness yourself.”

Kayode froze. “Wait, what?”

“You heard me,” Soji fired back.

His patience cracked. “You really should mind your business, Bro. Soji.”

“This is my business! My younger brother is digging his own grave and smiling while doing it. I even showed mercy by only telling Mum. I should have called a full family meeting!”

Kayode clenched his jaw. “She’s in my room.”

Soji whipped around. “Your what?”

He followed Kayode into the kitchen again, disbelief splashed across his face. “What is wrong with you? Who is this… lady?”

“Keep your voice down. She’s asleep,” Kayode snapped. “And she’s not just any lady, it’s Funmi. She needs help.”

Soji blinked. “Funmi who?”

Kayode folded his arms. “Your classmate. Funmi from Good Experiences.”

And that was it. The bomb exploded.

Soji dropped into the kitchen chair like the wind had been knocked out of him. “Funmi? How? When?” He looked like he needed something stronger, not coffee.

Without another word, Kayode led him to the bedroom.

There she was, still asleep, a near-empty drip hanging from the stand. Her skin looked clammy, but her breathing was calm. When he adjusted the covers, her lips parted with a soft “Thank you,” but her eyes didn’t open.

Soji stood by the door, arms crossed tightly, as though the virus might leap off the walls. But he watched closely. Kayode moved like this wasn’t new, like he had been tending to her for weeks. The tenderness was unmistakable.

Kayode gently touched her arm to wake her.

She stirred, head aching, nose completely congested. Wordlessly, he offered her a white handkerchief from the drawer. She smiled faintly and took it.

The moment was intimate. Too intimate.

Soji cleared his throat.

Funmi turned her head slowly. “Soji?”

He forced a smile. “I came to see why my brother was risking his life over a mystery woman. Turns out, it’s you.”

“He’s my hero,” she said, weakly but sincerely. “Your brother is amazing.”

“He’s a good guy. I just don’t want him dead, that’s why I came rushing down, I didn’t know it was you. How are you?” Soji replied, maintaining his distance.

Kayode rolled his eyes and left to get fresh drip supplies. He didn’t want to hear any more of Soji’s insensitive comments.

“You sound like you’re sure I’ve been infected,” Funmi said.

Soji didn’t sugarcoat it. “Are you sure you’re not?”

Funmi looked down, unsure.

“I’m sorry,” he added.

In truth, Soji admired her. She was brilliant, focused, and always three steps ahead. But she was also intimidating. He had once imagined dating her, back in the day, but the idea fizzled quickly. He liked strong women, but not ones who made him feel weak. Which is why he couldn’t comprehend how his younger brother had found the nerve, and the heart, to bring her here.

Funmi is no ordinary woman.

Kayode returned in time to hear Soji offering reassurance.

“We’ll make sure you’re fine. You’re not alone.”

Something about the way he said it irked Kayode. It sounded like condolence. Like it was already too late.

“I want to change her drip,” Kayode said, hoping it would finally scare his brother off.

No such luck. Soji simply shook his head and remained planted.

“Where did you meet her?” he asked.

“At the airport in London.”

Soji shook his head. “London is in chaos. Prince Charles and his wife are in quarantine. Boris Johnson—tested positive.”

Funmi’s body went stiff. She turned to Soji. “What did you say?”

“Boris. Prime Minister. Positive.”

“Kayode, call the NCDC.” Her voice was sharp now.

“Why?” they asked in unison.

“I’ve had two meetings with him this week.”

The silence was thunderous.

Ten minutes later, Kayode was in the living room trying to calm a panicked Soji.

“You need to calm down,” he said, low and firm.

“How can you be calm?!” Soji barked. “She’s a high-risk patient! She was with Boris Johnson, Kayode! Are you out of your mind?”

“She didn’t know!”

“And you do now. Yet you’re still playing doctor. This is suicide!”

“I’m already a high-risk contact,” Kayode snapped. “So maybe you should go and let us isolate in peace.”

“You’re clearly not okay.” Soji shook his head. “I’m calling the NCDC myself. At least she has the sense to report herself, even if you’ve completely lost yours.”

Kayode tried to stop him, but it was pointless. Soji stormed out, dialling as he went.

In the room, Funmi was standing. Barely.

She had heard everything. And she was leaving.

Her legs wobbled beneath her as she packed her notepad and phone. Each step cost her more energy than the last. By the time she reached the door, her knees gave way but Kayode caught her.

“Where are you going?” he asked, his arms steady around her.

“Let me go,” she murmured. “I’m high risk. You shouldn’t touch me.”

“I’m already high risk, Funmi.”

Tears spilled from her eyes. “It’s my fault.”

“No,” he whispered. “This is no one’s fault. The world is in crisis. We’re all just trying to survive it.”

She collapsed into his chest. He held her tighter, stroking her hair.

“I don’t understand you,” she whispered. “Why are you like this?”

“I’m not like this for everyone.”

He pulled back slightly, cupped her cheek. “I’m like this for you. You’re special to me. I told you that yesterday, and I meant it.”

Their eyes met. A moment passed. Then another.

His phone rang.

Kayode reached into his pocket, glancing at the screen. He froze.

Mummy MTN.

He closed his eyes briefly.

Damn Soji.