Tera Mayo Funny Storyteller

12/15/2025

Who is the person urgently knocking at their gate?The moment I looked outside the window that morning, something inside me shifted permanently. It was the kind of moment that divides your life into two parts—before and after. Before the truth starts revealing itself in small pieces, and after your innocence begins to fade like smoke.
This is Episode 3: The Stranger Beside the Window and the Clue We Were Not Supposed to Find.
I stood beside my husband, holding my breath, praying silently that what I was about to see would make sense. But life rarely gives explanations before delivering shock.

My eyes scanned the compound.

The sky was brightening, the morning breeze was cold, and the silence felt heavier than the previous night.

Then I saw it.

A footprint.

One single footprint on the soft patch of sand behind our kitchen window.

A clear, fresh footprint.

Not from a shoe.

Not from a slipper.

But a barefoot.

A small, narrow, feminine-looking barefoot.

My heart hit my ribs.

“Is that… hers?” I whispered.

Teramayo didn’t answer immediately. His jaw clenched as his eyes locked on the ground.

The footprint was facing away from the house, as if the person who made it had been standing there silently… observing… listening… waiting… before running off.

I felt chills all over my body.

“Why would she come to the back of the house?” I asked quietly. “What was she doing outside at that hour?”

My husband exhaled deeply. “That footprint is fresh. It wasn’t there yesterday. She must have gone out through the kitchen door.”

I pressed my fingers against my lips, trying to steady my breathing.

“Babe… this girl didn’t just run away. She was planning something.”

He nodded slowly.

The silence between us grew heavier.

I stepped back from the window, but my eyes remained glued to the sand.

A footprint.

Only one.

Meaning the person didn’t stay long.

Meaning the escape was quick.

Meaning someone might have been waiting for her.

“Let me go outside,” Teramayo said.

“No,” I replied instantly. “We don’t know who might still be around.”

He shook his head. “We can’t sit here doing nothing. If she ran off with your money, she didn’t go far.”

I didn’t like the way he said “your money,” as if the “your” was too sharp. I didn’t know why it bothered me, but it bothered me.

I followed him to the backyard.

The morning air slapped my skin gently, but it felt like a warning.

As we stepped outside, the footprint became clearer. It pointed toward a narrow gap behind the next compound. A route someone familiar with the area would use if they wanted to escape unseen.

“She planned this,” I whispered.

“Or someone planned it with her,” he corrected.

I turned sharply. “What do you mean?”

“Think about last night, Mofe,” he said. “She was at our door. She ran when she saw me. She whispered to someone. And now we are seeing footprints leading out of the compound.”

His voice dropped.

“This was not random.”

I swallowed hard.

We walked toward the kitchen door. That was when we saw something else.

Something small.

Something out of place.

Something that made my heart vibrate violently.

A tiny piece of folded nylon—the same type used for wrapping small items.

I picked it up.

It had a faint smell.

Not food.

Not soap.

Something like perfume.

Cheap perfume.

The kind that K.O used.

“This belongs to her,” I whispered.

“And look at the corner,” Teramayo said, pointing to a faint line on the doorframe. “Scratch marks.”

My stomach tightened.

“Someone forced the door open from inside,” he added.

“But we locked it from inside yesterday,” I countered.

He nodded slowly. “Meaning she unlocked it… when we were asleep.”

I covered my mouth with both hands.

My chest was burning.

My money.

Her disappearance.

The scratch marks.

The footprint.

The whisper.

The corridor sound.

The night my husband left our bed for five minutes.

The envelope that looked moved.

Everything began connecting like puzzle pieces I didn’t want to assemble.

“We need to call her agency,” I said.

Just as I took a step forward, something else hit me sharply.

A memory.

A sharp, painful, sudden memory from two months earlier.

A day I caught K.O staring at my husband’s phone when she thought I wasn’t looking.

I had brushed it aside.

But now… everything looked suspicious.

The way she sometimes looked at him too carefully.

The way she walked too softly around him.

The way she avoided making eye contact with me when she knew he wasn’t around.

My stomach tightened again, this time with a different kind of fear.

Was she only after money?

Or was she after something else?

Someone else?

I tried to shake the thought away, but it refused to leave.

As we re-entered the house, my husband placed his hand gently on my back. His touch was familiar, warm, comforting, but my mind was no longer in a calm place.

Still, as he guided me inside, his fingers lingered on my waist longer than usual, as if he wanted to pull me back into the coded tenderness we shared the night before.

But I wasn’t ready.

Not now.

Not when questions were gathering like rain clouds.

“Mofe,” he said quietly, “sit down. Let’s think this through.”

I shook my head. “Thinking is not enough. We need action.”

“We don’t even know where she went,” he replied calmly, moving closer to me.

His voice softened.

His eyes held mine.

The air shifted slightly—the familiar shift of closeness. The kind of closeness that reminded me of last night’s warmth, his hands exploring the contours of my back like he was reading a secret language written on my skin. The coded bond we shared was still there, tugging between us like a gentle string.

But I stepped back.

Not because I didn’t want him.

But because something wasn’t adding up.

And that “something” might involve him.

“Babe,” he said softly, “don’t shut me out.”

I sighed heavily.

“I’m not shutting you out,” I replied. “I’m just trying to understand why you didn’t tell me you saw her by our door.”

He froze.

“That… I was going to tell you this morning.”

“When?” I asked. “After the money disappeared? After she vanished? Or never?”

He opened his mouth to explain but stopped.

And that silence hurt me more than any answer.

“She was doing something near our door,” I said slowly. “Something you didn’t want to talk about.”

“That’s not true,” he said quickly.

“Then tell me what you think she was doing.”

He swallowed.

“I don’t know,” he whispered.

But his eyes shifted away again.

And that was when I saw something.

Something I hadn’t noticed since morning.

A tiny scratch on his left wrist.

Fresh.

Not old.

As if something or someone had grabbed him the night before.

My eyes widened.

“Where did you get that scratch?” I asked.

He looked down at his wrist.

His expression changed.

And he hid his hand behind his thigh.

“Mofe… it’s nothing.”

“It doesn’t look like nothing.”

He stepped away slightly.

“It’s not what you think.”

“What should I think?”

He didn’t answer.

I moved closer, my heart pounding.

“Did she scratch you?”

He inhaled sharply.

“Mofe… please…”

“Answer me!” I demanded.

Just then—

A loud knock hit our gate.

Once.

Then again.

Strong.

Urgent.

We froze.

My heart jumped into my throat.

Another knock.

This time louder.

Someone was outside.

Someone who sounded impatient.

Or angry.

Or desperate.

“Who is that?” I whispered.

Teramayo didn’t move.

His face changed completely.

Because he recognized the knock.

“Mofe,” he whispered shakily, “don’t say a word. Let me check.”

But I grabbed his arm quickly.

“No. You are not going alone.”

Because I already had a feeling.

A strong, heavy, crawling feeling.

Whoever was at the gate…

Was connected to last night.

Connected to the missing girl.

Connected to the missing money.

Connected to the secret my husband was refusing to say.

He looked at me.

I looked at him.

Another knock thundered.

And the voice outside shouted—

“Open this gate now! I said open it!”

My blood ran cold.

Because I recognized the voice.

It was someone who had no business shouting at our gate that early morning.

Someone K.O should never have known.

Someone who should never be here.

Not at all.
Who is the person urgently knocking at their gate?
Why is this person connected to the missing house girl?
And what exactly is Teramayo hiding behind his silence… and the fresh scratch on his wrist?
Type "Next Episode" if you want me to paste Episode 4 on facebook.
Kindly like👍, share✔️ and comment✏️ your own view to this story🙏.
❤️‍🔥If you copy🚫 my story and paste⚠️ it on your own page, remember I sabi how to find and rèpørt⛔️ your pàge🤗.

NOTE TO READERS:
This is just episode 3 out of the full 11 Episodes. All episodes are available for free on StoryTera.
Note: This is 100% Fictional, and not having resemblance to any true events or characters.

12/14/2025

12/14/2025

Who Stole My $1,500 Savings the Same Night Our House Girl Went Missing?
Episode 2: The Unfinished Secret In My Husband’s Eyes.
The morning K.O vanished, my spirit felt like dry paper waiting for fire. Every part of my body shook with confusion, anger, fear, and a strange heaviness I couldn’t explain. The sun outside was rising gently, but inside my chest, it felt like a storm was gathering strength.

I stood there, holding the empty brown envelope with both hands, staring at it as if staring long enough would make the money reappear. But life doesn’t work like that. Money doesn’t return because your heart is broken. People don’t magically become honest because you trusted them. Secrets don’t dissolve because you close your eyes.

I swallowed hard.

I needed to wake my husband.

But something held me back.

A small, stubborn memory from the previous night—something I had ignored—was pushing itself forward in my mind, insisting on being acknowledged.

I closed my eyes and replayed the moment.

Last night… around the time the corridor made that strange sound… I remembered something unusual.

My husband’s sudden movement.

His quick shift from the bed.

His whisper: “Wait. I’m coming.”

The way he stepped out of the room for almost five minutes… without explanation.

I had asked, “Babe, what happened?”

And he said, “Nothing. I just needed to check something.”

But his voice had trembled slightly.

At that time, I didn’t think much about it. We were in the middle of our coded bonding moment—his hands were already tracing gentle, warm paths along my waist, and my breath was already syncing with his. It was one of those nights where the moon-hour felt right, where the quiet room turned into a place of unspoken closeness.

But the moment he stepped out and returned, something about his energy had changed. His touch had slowed. His breathing had shifted. His eyes were heavy with something I could not read.

At that time, I assumed it was stress from work.

Now, with my money gone and the house girl missing…

Everything looked different.

I took a deep breath, clutched the envelope harder, and walked into our bedroom.

Teramayo was still asleep, lying on his back, his face relaxed, looking like the man I had loved for years. The morning light fell on him like a blessing, yet inside my chest, questions were rising like smoke.

I touched his shoulder gently.

He opened his eyes and blinked.

“Good morning, babe,” he murmured in his deep voice.

I didn’t answer immediately.

I just stood there.

“Mofe,” he said, sitting up slowly, “what’s wrong?”

I held up the envelope with a shaky hand.

His face changed instantly.

Not shock.

Not anger.

Not confusion.

But something else—something controlled. Something measured. Something like he had been expecting bad news, but not sure which one would arrive first.

“My money,” I whispered. “It’s gone.”

His jaw tightened.

“What do you mean gone?”

“Gone,” I repeated. “The envelope is empty.”

He reached for it quickly, opened it, confirmed what I said, and then exhaled slowly.

Not loudly.

Slowly.

Like someone trying to hide emotion.

“Where’s K.O?” he asked.

“She’s gone too,” I said. “Her room is empty.”

He rubbed his forehead hard.

“Are you sure she didn’t just step out?”

“Step out at dawn? With her box? Without telling anybody?”

He didn’t respond.

He looked away.

And at that moment, something in my heart cracked a little.

Because he wasn’t asking the questions a normal person should ask.

He didn’t say:

How did she take it?
Are you sure?
Let me check something.
Let’s call the agency.
Let’s call someone.
Let’s look around.

No.

He simply looked away.

As if a piece of the puzzle just fell into place in his mind.

I swallowed again.

“Babe?” I called softly.

No answer.

“Did you hear me?”

He nodded, still avoiding my eyes.

And then he whispered something that almost made my heartbeat freeze.

“Mofe… we need to talk.”

My chest tightened.

Because when a Nigerian man says We need to talk that early in the morning, after money disappears, after a house girl vanishes, after a night full of strange movements and corridor sounds…

It means something deeper is happening.

Something hidden.

Something uncomfortable.

I sat beside him on the edge of the bed.

His hand brushed mine, but the warmth of last night’s closeness was gone. The coded tenderness we had shared was replaced by tension, and I could feel it crawling across the bed like cold air.

He didn’t speak immediately.

He just exhaled again, that same slow exhale that carried weight.

Then finally he said:

“There’s something I didn’t tell you. Something I should have told you before now.”

I felt the room tilt.

“What is it?”

He looked down.

“When I stepped out last night… I wasn’t just checking something. I heard someone in the corridor.”

My heart stopped.

“What?” I asked sharply.

“Yes,” he said quietly. “I heard movement. I thought maybe K.O was still awake, so I opened the door quietly.”

My throat dried.

“And…?”

“And I saw her,” he said.

My eyes widened.

“You saw K.O? Doing what?”

He hesitated.

That hesitation was a knife through my chest.

“Doing… something,” he said finally.

My voice rose. “Doing what, Teramayo?!”

He rubbed his face again and whispered:

“I saw her near our bedroom door. Bending slightly. I don’t know what she was touching. But when she heard me coming, she quickly stepped back and ran toward her room.”

My entire body turned cold.

What was she touching?

What was she doing by our door?

Why didn’t he tell me immediately?

My heart beat faster.

“Why didn’t you wake me?” I demanded.

He finally looked up and said:

“Because we were in the middle of… you know.”

My chest tightened.

Our coded moment.

Our moon-hour closeness.

Our night of slow touches and warm breaths.

Was that why he ignored what he saw?

Was that why he acted strange?

“And there’s something else,” he added.

My breath caught.

“What now?”

He ran both hands down his face, struggling with the next words.

“When she ran off… I think I heard her whispering to someone.”

I felt my blood go cold.

“Someone?” I repeated.

“Yes.”

“Inside the house or outside?”

He hesitated again.

And then he said the words that made my stomach twist:

“I don’t know. But it wasn’t the kind of whisper someone makes alone. It sounded like she was talking to somebody.”

Somebody.

Inside or outside?

Male or female?

Stranger or someone we knew?

I closed my eyes, trying to breathe.

This was no longer a simple case of a missing house girl.

This was turning into something bigger.

Something strange.

Something dangerous.

My savings was gone.

The girl was gone.

But who was she whispering to?

And what exactly was she trying to touch near our bedroom door?

I felt like my mind was splitting open with too many questions.

Just then, something unexpected happened.

From outside our window…

A sound.

A short, sharp sound.

Not loud.

Just enough to freeze both of us.

Teramayo rose immediately.

I followed him with my eyes.

He walked to the curtain.

Gently parted it.

And then his voice changed.

“Mofe,” he whispered urgently, “come and see something.”

My heart thumped like a drum.

I stood up.

Walked slowly.

And when I looked outside…

What I saw made my breath stop completely.
Who did K.O whisper to the night she disappeared?
What did Mofe and Teramayo see outside their window?
And is the person involved closer to them than they ever imagined?
Type "Next Episode" if you want me to paste Episode 3 on facebook.
Kindly like👍, share✔️ and comment✏️ your own view to this story🙏.
❤️‍🔥If you copy🚫 my story and paste⚠️ it on your own page, remember I sabi how to find and rèpørt⛔️ your pàge🤗.

NOTE TO READERS:
This is just episode 2 out of the full 11 Episodes. All episodes are available for free on StoryTera.
Note: This is 100% Fictional, and not having resemblance to any true events or characters.

12/13/2025

Who knows this place in Omi-adio?

12/13/2025

I hustle in the day and
Publish stories & book when I get home every night🤷‍♂️

12/13/2025

Do I Really Resemble Hausa? Some people do think I am Hausa whenever I carry them with my bike.

12/13/2025

Who Stole My $1,500 Savings the Same Night Our House Girl Went Missing?
Episode 1: The Night That Looked Normal But Was Not Normal At All
My name is Mofe, and up until that night, my life inside our quiet little apartment had felt peaceful, predictable, and safe. I believed nothing strange could ever happen to us. I believed our home was too ordinary for drama, and our routine too stable to attract trouble. In fact, when I think back now, the silence of the previous days was already a sign that something huge was coming.
But I didn’t notice.
Maybe I was too busy trying to keep my marriage balanced. Maybe I was too focused on trying to win back the spark between myself and my husband, Teramayo, who had worked himself into a state of permanent tiredness. Or maybe I simply trusted too much—the kind of soft trust that makes you overlook things you should be watching closely.

We live somewhere around the outskirts of a calm town. A place where everybody minds their business and most houses look similar. Nothing fancy. Nothing suspicious. Just life happening slowly.

Our house girl, whom I will call K.O for privacy, had been living with us for almost nine months. She was quiet. Too quiet sometimes. The kind of girl that walked like she didn’t want footprints. The type that always said “Aunty, I have finished,” in that tiny voice that made her sound respectful but also unreadable. I never knew what she truly thought. I never knew if she liked us. I never knew if she planned to stay long.

But I trusted her.

Maybe that was where I made my first mistake.

Earlier that evening, something unusual happened. Nothing that looked dangerous—just something small that pricked my mind. I had gone inside the small wardrobe in our bedroom where I kept my emergency savings. A brown envelope containing $1,500 that I had gathered little by little from my small side hustle, digital services, and weekend freelancing. It wasn’t money I boasted about. It was money I was saving for something personal—my long-dreamed online course that would help me upscale my income and finally stop depending fully on what my husband brought home.

I opened the wardrobe just to check the envelope. I didn’t take anything from it. I only counted mentally, confirmed it was still safe, and closed the door.

But as I closed it, I noticed a slight shift—like the envelope had moved from where I usually placed it. It wasn’t lying flat. It looked curved, as if someone had touched it. When I picked it up earlier, it looked slightly wrinkled compared to how neatly I usually arranged it.

I remember frowning.

I remember touching the envelope again and wondering, “Did I place it like this the last time?”

I shrugged it off.

I told myself it was my imagination.

That was mistake number two.

Night came earlier than usual that day because the sky had been dark since afternoon. Rain was threatening but never fell. It was as if the clouds were holding back something, just like my house was holding back a secret.

By 8:30 pm, dinner was ready—jollof rice and peppered chicken. The aroma spread through the house, wrapping the atmosphere with warmth and a little bit of romance. I was already planning something small for my husband later that night. Not the open type of closeness—just coded bonding, the kind only two married adults understand. The type where you touch his hands more than usual, smile at him longer than necessary, and let your body language speak the language your mouth refuses to say out loud.

But when I served the food, I realized something else.

K.O was unusually distracted.

She dropped a plate and quickly apologized. She kept glancing at her phone, which she rarely used. Her hands were trembly. Her movement was not her normal style.

At some point, she even asked, “Aunty, will you still need me to iron Oga’s clothes tonight?”

I found that strange because she already knew the routine. She ironed in the mornings, not nights.

Before I could ask why she was behaving like that, Teramayo returned from work. He looked more stressed than usual, his face tight, his shirt soaked with sweat despite the cloudy weather. There was something off about his mood, but I didn’t want to nag. I simply touched his shoulder gently—a coded touch that married women use to say “I see you, and I care.”

He nodded, sighed deeply, and entered the bathroom.

K.O walked past me, heading to the kitchen, and I noticed her eyes were swollen.

Was she crying earlier?

I shook my head again.

Another sign I ignored.

Dinner went smoothly, although the silence around the table felt heavy. Teramayo hardly said a word. His phone rang twice and he ignored it, and that was unlike him. K.O finished eating fast and disappeared into her small room near the corridor.

By 10:45 pm, the entire house was calm. Too calm. The type of calmness that usually hides a storm.

I had already changed into something soft and comfortable—what I call my coded-nightwear. Not too revealing, but not too covered either. Just enough to tell my husband, “Today, I want us to connect.”

He smiled when he saw me. A tired smile, but still a smile.

I stepped closer to him, placed my hand on his chest, and slowly brushed my fingers across his collarbone in a teasing but respectful way. He responded, pulling me gently into his arms. His touch was warm, his breath slow, and for a moment I felt the spark we had been missing.

But just when things were getting sweet, peaceful, and promising… a sound interrupted everything.

A faint, dragging sound from the corridor.

Not loud, but definitely there.

We paused.

“What is that?” I whispered.

Teramayo frowned. “Maybe K.O is still awake.”

But the sound did not continue.

We ignored it.

That was mistake number three.

Everything might have still turned out fine if we had checked.

But we didn’t.

We slept.

And when sunrise came, our entire world had shifted.

By 6:17 am, when I opened my eyes and stepped out of the room, the first thing I noticed was that the corridor door was slightly open.

K.O’s room door was wide open.

Her small box was missing.

Her slippers were gone.

Her bed was empty.

K.O was gone.

Just like that.

Without a note.

Without a goodbye.

Without any sign of struggle.

I froze.

My heart started beating fast—too fast, like it wanted to escape my chest.

Just as I tried to process her disappearance, something inside me whispered suddenly:

Check the wardrobe.

The moment I heard that inner voice, my hands began shaking.

I opened the wardrobe.

Opened the smaller cabinet inside.

Opened the corner where my brown envelope always sat.

The envelope was there.

But when I lifted it…

It felt lighter.

Too light.

My whole body turned cold.

My hands trembled harder.

I opened it.

Empty.

My $1,500 savings…

Gone.

Vanished.

Stolen.

And the same night she went missing.

Questions started banging inside my head like someone was knocking violently.

Did K.O steal it?

Did someone else enter our home?

Did she run because someone threatened her?

Or…

Was there something deeper happening in my own house that I hadn’t seen?

I turned slowly and looked at the closed door of my bedroom where my husband was still asleep.

My heart squeezed.

Because I suddenly remembered something…

A memory from the previous night…

Something small…

Something strange…

Something that now refused to stay quiet.

But I swallowed it.

I wasn’t ready to ask the question forming in my mind.

Not yet.

Not until I found out the full truth.

And I was determined to find it.

No matter what it cost me.
Who really took the $1,500?
Was K.O running away from something—or running away with something?
And why is my mind refusing to ignore the strange thing I noticed about my own husband?
Type "Next Episode" if you want me to paste Epis 2 on facebook.
Kindly like👍, share✔️ and comment✏️ your own view to this story🙏.
❤️‍🔥If you copy🚫 my story and paste⚠️ it on your own page, remember I sabi how to find and rèpørt⛔️ your pàge🤗.

NOTE TO READERS:
This is just episode 1 out of the full 11 Episodes. All episodes are available for free on StoryTera.
Note: This is 100% Fictional, and not having resemblance to any true events or characters.

12/12/2025

Train fell off track at Omi-adio.
This is the very first time I am seeing Railway accidènt since I was born

12/12/2025

She is the only one that has key to my room: I met a lady under my duvet when I got back at 8pm. I am a Corper doing my NYSC in Ibadan
Episode 1: The Night I Returned to Meet a Stranger Hidden Under My Duvet

I should start this story exactly the way it happened, without wasting your time, because until today, I still don’t understand how everything turned from curiosity to romance, and from romance to a painful ending that left a deep lesson in my heart.

My name is Chinedu. I am a Corper serving in Ibadan, staying in a small self-contained apartment inside a quiet compound at Ologede side. I had enjoyed the silence of the place for months. I liked the way the woman that owned the house, Mama Ronke, minded her business and let everybody live freely. Nothing ever happened in that compound that could make someone suspect drama was coming. But the night I returned around 8pm and saw a strange shape under my duvet changed everything.

I had spent the whole day at my PPA teaching Senior Secondary students. They stressed me as usual, but I enjoyed it. Teaching those children gave me a sense of purpose. After closing, I followed my friend and fellow Corper, Ola, to Bodija to buy foodstuffs before heading home. My mind was on rest. I didn’t suspect anything strange.

When I entered my room, the bulb was on. That surprised me because I was sure I switched it off before leaving in the morning. I paused for a moment and tried to remember maybe NEPA restored light and the bulb came on automatically, but no, my switch was manual. Something was wrong.

I locked the door quietly and walked in slowly.

Everything in my room was where I left it—the table, my laptop, the foodstuffs I bought the previous day—but my eye caught something on the bed. My duvet, which I folded in the morning, was raised like someone was hiding under it.

I took one step back.

For a moment, I thought maybe it was a cat. Ibadan cats can enter anywhere. But the shape looked too big for a cat.

My heart started beating fast. I whispered, Who is there?

No answer.

I wasn’t sure if I should shout or run outside. I reached for my phone and flashed the torchlight at the bed.

The duvet moved.

I froze.

I managed to speak again, this time louder. Whoever is under that duvet, come out now before I call people!

Slowly, the duvet shifted. A hand came out first. Then a head. Then a full human figure rose slowly until she sat up properly.

It was a young lady.

A very beautiful, calm-looking lady, her hair wrapped with a scarf, wearing a simple gown, looking like someone who wasn’t expecting trouble.

My breath almost left my body.

She looked at me with eyes that carried fear and tiredness. Then she spoke softly.

Please don’t shout. I didn’t come to steal. I just needed a place to hide.

Her voice shook as she talked, and she kept her hands together like someone begging for mercy.

I swallowed hard. What do you mean hide? Who are you? How did you enter my room?

She looked down at her fingers before answering. I am Kemi.

The name was Yoruba, common, but her appearance didn’t look common at all. She had this quiet beauty that made her look like someone from a good home, not someone sneaking into a stranger’s room.

Still, her answer didn’t solve anything.

How did you enter my room? I asked again.

She finally looked up. I really didn’t want to enter, but… she paused again, sighed deeply, and continued. Your landlady, Mama Ronke, she gave me your spare key.

My eyes widened. My landlady? My spare key?

For a second, I thought I was dreaming.

Why? I asked, sounding confused and angry at the same time. Why would she do that?

Kemi looked away again, tears gathering in her eyes. Please just hear me first before getting angry.

At that moment, I started thinking of different possibilities. Maybe she was related to Mama Ronke. Maybe she was someone in danger. But entering my room and hiding under my duvet? That went beyond simple explanation.

Sit down and talk, I told her.

She sat fully on the bed, legs folded beside her. I sat on the only plastic chair in the room, watching her carefully.

She began to talk.

She said she came from a nearby area where she stayed with an aunt who treated her badly. She said she had run out earlier in the day after an argument that turned into a fight. She had nowhere to go, and Mama Ronke saw her crying at the gate.

According to her, my landlady told her to come inside first, that she would help her find where to sleep. But when she discovered that all rooms were locked because tenants were out, she opened my room with the spare key she kept for emergencies.

I didn’t know whether to believe the story or not.

So you entered my room without my permission, and you decided to hide under my duvet? Why didn’t you sit down openly? Why hide? I asked.

She wiped her tears with the back of her hand. Because I was scared. You would not understand, she said quietly.

At that moment, she looked so fragile that something in me softened, but instead of showing it, I stood up and took my phone to call Mama Ronke.

She answered immediately.

Ah, Chinedu, you don come? she asked.

Mama, somebody is in my room.

Before I could say more, she said quickly, Don’t worry, I will come now, and she hung up.

When she arrived five minutes later, she looked at Kemi and sighed deeply. Omo mi, you should have stayed in my sitting room.

Kemi didn’t reply.

Then Mama faced me and explained everything exactly the way Kemi narrated it, except she also added that the girl had nowhere to go and she didn’t want to leave her outside at night.

But why my room? Why not yours? I asked.

Mama smiled awkwardly. I was not around when she entered. I left her with my daughter, and my daughter thought your room would be safer.

It didn’t make sense, but I was too tired to argue.

Do you want her to stay for the night? Mama asked softly.

I looked at Kemi. Her eyes were swollen from tears. She looked like someone who had not eaten since morning.

I knew the sensible thing to do was send her to Mama’s house for the night. I didn’t know her. Allowing a stranger to sleep in my room was not wise. But the way she held her hands, the quietness of her tears… it made me think twice.

I sighed.

Mama, let her stay here tonight. Tomorrow we will know what to do.

Mama nodded and left.

Kemi looked shocked. Thank you, she whispered.

I didn’t reply.

I just told her to stay on the bed while I sat on the chair. I plugged my phone and tried to distract myself, but my eyes kept going back to her.

She slept off quickly, almost like someone who had not rested in days.

I watched her for a long time, wondering how someone like her ended up in such a situation. I didn’t know that allowing her into my room that night was the beginning of a love story that would later break me in ways I never imagined.

When I finally slept, I didn’t know that my quiet life as a Corper in Ibadan had just taken a dangerous turn. A turn that would lead to affection, temptation, closeness, betrayal, and an ending that still hurts me today.
Who exactly is Kemi, and why was she truly hiding under the duvet?
Did she tell me everything that night, or was there more she kept hidden?
And why did I feel something unusual pulling me toward her, even when I knew something wasn’t adding up?
To continue to Episode 2 below👇,
https://storytera.com/stories/134/episodes/13402
Episode 3 is here below👇, https://storytera.com/stories/134/episodes/13403
Episode 4 is here below👇, https://storytera.com/stories/134/episodes/13404
Episode 5 (The End) is here below👇, https://storytera.com/stories/134/episodes/13405
Kindly like👍, share✔️ and comment✏️ your own view to this story🙏.
❤️‍🔥If you copy🚫 my story and paste⚠️ it on your own page, remember I sabi how to find and rèpørt⛔️ your pàge🤗.

NOTE TO READERS:
This is just episode 1 out of the full 5 Episodes. All episodes are available for free on StoryTera.
Note: This is 100% Fictional, and not having resemblance to any true events or characters.