When I get into the house with a last glance at the back to be sure he didn't actually follow me, I see Jose sitting and looking weary, but I'm too immersed in my own problems to note that something is actually wrong. So I plop down on our three-sitter couch and start explaining my day, but I stop halfway when I notice that she's not really responsive."Babes, is everything okay? Or wait, your boss gave you hell for coming late, right? Nothing serious nau, cheer up abeg, let's get pepper soup, I'm stressed," I say, hoping to make her feel better, because pepper soup always does that to her, and for me, it's ice cream, but that's hardly the point, so I scoot closer to her and see the tear streaks which makes me freak out massively. Josephine is anything but a crybaby. In fact, since we've been best friends, I can count how many times I've seen her cry. "Baby? Josephine, what happened, please? Is it from home? Did you kill anybody? Where's the body so we can bury it, you'll hold the to
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