She was motionless. For a fleeting, vertiginous moment, the world seemed to rotate on a new axis, with Ada at its center, centrifuging her senses into a chaotic blur.
How could she possibly know? Who could have told her?
“Excuse me?” Tasha managed, attempting to mask the stunned expression that had claimed her features. She shifted her bag from her right hand, the now-free hand instinctively scratching her cheek. A wave of dizziness washed over her, and she braced herself, anticipating the need to catch her fall.
“Oh, don’t play dumb with me,” Ada said, her head shaking slowly in a gesture of theatrical pity. “After all, you are the department’s luminary. Surely, you comprehend my meaning.”
“I… I…” Tasha stammered, her voice failing her.
“Eleven-thirty P.M.,” Ada stated, her words hanging in the air like a verdict. She turned and walked away, leaving Tasha utterly speechless.
Tasha watched her retreating form, a maelstrom of questions raging in her mind. How had Ada discovered her secret? Or was this a dreadful misunderstanding, a cruel happenstance? She clenched her fist, took a deep, shuddering breath, and forced herself to merge with the sea of students flowing out of the lecture hall.
“Mum? Hello, I can’t hear you.” Tasha pressed the phone to her left ear while shoveling spoonfuls of soaked garri into her mouth. “Hello? Okay, I can hear you now. Yes, Ma, I’m fine. Ah, Mum, I’m not a child anymore.” A laugh escaped her, almost causing her to choke. “What? Oh, yes. Yes, I prayed this morning. Mum, don’t…” She rolled her eyes, exhaling in frustration. “Mum, nothing bad will happen to me. Don’t worry about me, okay? I’ll be alright,” she said, hanging up, the reassurance feeling hollow even to her own ears.
She scrolled through her phone’s menu and launched her music app. After a moment of deliberation, she tapped on a song, dropped the device, and rose from the chair in a fluid motion. She carried the empty plate to her cupboard, her body moving to the rhythm of the wild beats booming from her phone considering the recent, ominous turn of events, shouldn’t she be disquieted? Yet, there she was, dancing with a frantic, almost manic energy, as if she could physically ward off the encroaching dread.
A sharp rap on her door interrupted her. “Tasha?”
“Coming! Who is it?” she called out, her hand hovering over the doorknob.
“It’s Amanda.”
“Okay… babe, come in,” Tasha said, pulling the door open. “What brings you here?”
“I’m good. Aren’t you going to the bonfire party?” Amanda asked.
“Of course! I was just practicing my moves,” Tasha replied, lifting her palm, waiting for Amanda’s to meet it in their customary clap.
“Rockstar,” Amanda chuckled as their hands met with a sharp, familiar sound. “I hope you’re dressed to slay?”
“You know it. A sure thing.”
They arrived at the party around 9:00 P.M. The atmosphere was electric, a sensory overload of thrumming bass, flashing lights, and the cloying scent of sweat, perfume, and spilled spirits.
“I can’t wait to dance,” Amanda shouted over the cacophony.
Tasha threw herself into the throng, a willing captive of the rhythm. She danced with anyone who cared to join, moving with an ecstatic abandon until she was soaked in sweat. It was a perfect, ephemeral escape.
Then, a low voice cut through the noise, whispering directly behind her. “It’s time, Tasha.”
A visceral chill shot down her spine. “What the…” She started to turn, but a firm hand on her shoulder held her in place.
“Don’t move.”
She felt a cold, hard pressure against her lower back. A gun. “I will shoot you if you turn,” the voice commanded. “Now, move. Gently.”
Her feet, which moments before had been dancing with joyous freedom, now moved with robotic precision, guided by an invisible terror. She was led through the pulsating crowd, out of the party’s incandescent glow and into the suffocating darkness of the parking lot.
A familiar face emerged from the shadows, a grim smile playing on her lips. It was Ada, and the object in her hand was unmistakably real.
“Now, get in the car,” Ada ordered, gesturing with the gun. Tasha hesitated, her body frozen. “I said, get in the car!”
Tasha numbly opened the car door and slid inside.
“Where are you taking me?” she asked, her voice a fragile whisper as Ada ignited the engine.
Ada shifted the car into gear, the only sound in the suffocating silence. “I told you, didn’t I? Eleven-thirty.” She glanced at Tasha, her eyes devoid of any warmth. “Look, don’t make this difficult for yourself.”
She pressed the accelerator, and the world outside the windows dissolved into a terrifying, incomprehensible blur.
