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“Strictly Confidential: Part 2” — A Short Series by Favour Chukwuemeka

Read Part 1.

She’s begun to eat before I descended from upstairs. Like me, she’s fresh like those models from soap adverts. Her skin’s fairer than the morning sun and she has definitely put on some weight. Damn, my sister’s hot!

When I begin to eat, Dabira tells me it’s a fine meal with more salt than needed. She doesn’t look up at me when she’s asking about when Mum and Dad would arrive. Or when she wants to know how work has been hitting me.

Then, I’m getting upset that she’s glued to her food and sometimes phone, while we’re talking. So I stop talking and try to interrogate. Dabira responds evenly but she’s still not looking my way at all. I breathe in, blow some air. Deep breaths. Just when I’m about to smash something, I get up.

I tell Dabira I have to go to bed. She tells me she’s got to make some calls. I remind her where my room is located. She tells me she’s comfortable with any of the guestrooms.

I am miffed.

On my bed, I writhe and squirm endlessly. The sweet reminders of those blissful moments against the present reality make my insides churn. No wonder the boys always made every effort to get rid of konji before it rid them of peace. Definitely, she could be seeing someone else but that doesn’t invalidate the fact that we have something.

Maybe, it’s a had now.

Our parents will be arriving tomorrow evening and before then, I need to find out what’s going on. Dabira always spends so much time with them and I need to get my own time with her before the old folks titter their way into my home and de-congest the smoky atmosphere I’m been trying to create.

I hear her voice from downstairs; her uncontrolled laughter. To hell with those Yankee boys. I grab my phone and scroll through my news feed. Then that ugly devil escapes from its bottle and begins to feed me nasty suggestions.

This is my moment of weakness; surely, I won’t be judged for something I did when I’m wounded. I thought I had stopped doing this … a long time ago. Not when the person in question is just downstairs!

In a moment, I swipe to my phone gallery and unlock a cryptic slide. In a moment, Dabira’s nude pictures are before me in full glare. I touch them, and wriggle my hands under the sheets to find my thing. My breathing becomes rapid.

And lead us not into temptation…

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