Chapter 28: 27.

The weight of the day pressed down on me as I stepped through the front door, my mind racing. Ms. Jones’s murder was horrifying enough, but the thought that I had been her last call made it all feel too personal.

The scent of dinner wafted from the kitchen, where I found Ashantii, moving with her usual confident grace. She was humming softly, her hair neatly styled, her makeup flawless, her every movement deliberate. She radiated an air of calm control, as if nothing in the world could disturb her.

“There’s my girl,” she said warmly, glancing at me with a soft smile. “Dinner’s ready. Long day?”

I stared at her, my bag slipping from my shoulder. Her presence, usually a source of comfort, felt almost suffocating today.

“It was a lot,” I said, my voice clipped.

Her smile faltered slightly, and she tilted her head, her dark eyes studying me carefully. “Come here,” she murmured, her tone coaxing as she held out a hand.

I didn’t move. “Ms. Jones is dead,” I said flatly, watching her reaction.

She froze, the smile dropping from her lips for a fleeting second before returning, softer this time. “Dead?” she echoed, her voice laced with concern as she stepped closer. “What do you mean?”

“She was murdered,” I said, my arms crossing over my chest.

Ashantii’s brows furrowed as she reached out to gently touch my arm. “Tiana… I’m so sorry. That’s awful,” she said, her voice low and soothing. “What happened?”

“They found her a few days ago,” I said, my tone hardening. “She was my last call.”

Her hand paused, resting lightly on my arm. For a moment, she said nothing, her face a careful mask of worry and tenderness. “Your last call?” she repeated, her voice barely above a whisper.

“She called me the night she died,” I said, my voice trembling. “You remember, don’t you? We were on our getaway. I answered the phone, and you…” I trailed off, watching her closely.

She tilted her head slightly, her dark eyes searching mine. “What about it?”

“You didn’t get upset,” I said, my voice sharp. “You smiled. You cooed at me when I hung up and said, ‘That’s better, baby. She doesn’t deserve your attention.’”

Her face remained calm, but something flickered in her eyes—just for a second.

“Tiana,” she said, her tone low and affectionate as she stepped even closer, her presence commanding yet comforting. “I said that because I wanted to protect our time together. You know how precious those moments are for us. That’s all it was.”

“Was it?” I asked, my voice rising. “Because now, knowing what happened, I can’t stop thinking about the way you acted. How happy you seemed when I dropped her call.”

Her expression softened into something almost pitying as she reached out to gently cup my face. “You’ve had such a hard day, my love,” she murmured, her thumb brushing against my cheek. “You’re exhausted, and you’re looking for someone to blame. But blaming me? That’s not fair, is it?”

Her voice was soothing, her touch tender, but it only made my unease grow.

“I’m not blaming you,” I said, stepping back, her hand falling to her side. “I’m just saying… something feels off, Ashantii.”

She sighed, her dominant energy returning as she crossed the room to the stove. “You’re tired,” she said, her voice gentle but firm. “You’re not thinking clearly. Sit down, baby, and I’ll make you some tea. You need to relax.”

“I’m not tired,” I said, my tone sharp.

“Yes, you are,” she said firmly, pouring hot water into a mug. Her calm was unnerving, unshakable. “You’ve been through so much today. Let me take care of you.”

Her words carried a weight of authority, and despite my growing unease, I found myself hesitating as she added honey to the tea, stirred it, and turned back to me.

“Here,” she said, holding the mug out. Her gaze locked onto mine, intense but tender. “Drink this. It’ll help.”

I stared at the mug in her hands, my instincts screaming at me to refuse. But her voice softened again, a hint of vulnerability creeping in. “Please, Tiana. Let me help you.”

Reluctantly, I took the mug and lifted it to my lips. She watched me closely, her gaze unwavering as I took a sip.

The warmth spread through me, but something felt wrong. My head grew heavy, my vision blurred, and my legs wobbled beneath me.

“Ashantii…” I murmured, my voice slurring as the mug slipped from my hands and shattered on the floor.

She caught me before I hit the ground, her arms strong and steady as she lowered me gently.

“Shh,” she whispered, brushing my hair back from my face. Her voice was soft, soothing, but there was an edge to it—something darker. “You’re okay, baby. Just let go. I’ll take care of everything.”

Her face hovered above mine, calm and composed, but her eyes betrayed her. They weren’t warm or worried. They were calculating.

And then everything went black.