Star extended the food to Mandume.
"Come on. Eat with me."
"I already ate," he replied.
"But I didn't see you eat," she said, narrowing her eyes. "You have to eat with me."
She rose from the hospital bed, still wobbly but determined.
"Star, no—get back in bed. What if you get hurt?" Mandume said, stepping forward.
"Open your mouth. Let me feed you," she insisted.
"Star… please, your head is bandaged. You're hurt. Just lie down—please," Mandume said gently, concern brimming in his eyes.
"Fine. On one condition…" she began.
"Yes, yes—okay! I'll eat. Look!" He quickly grabbed a spoon and took a bite.
Star burst into laughter.
"What's so funny?" he asked, chewing.
"You're so dramatic—'No, Star, get back...'" she mimicked, laughing harder.
"I can't help it," Mandume said, lowering his gaze. "I can't bear anything happening to you. You're my world, Star… my everything. I can't imagine losing you. Did you…"
His voice faltered, and Star stared at him, confused.
"Why are you crying?" she asked softly. "I'm not going anywhere. I promise."
"But you did leave me today," he said hoarsely. "I walked into that hospital room and… all I saw was your body. It was my arrogance—my stubbornness. I ignored your screams. I'm sorry."
"No… no. I don't like tears," she whispered, reaching for his hand. "I'm here now. I'll only leave this world with you, okay?"
"Promise?"
"I promise."
"Then I promise too—I'll never let what happened today happen again."
They sealed it with their secret handshake, then fell into a warm hug. Star hiccuped.
"Take some juice," Mandume offered, passing it to her.
"You're not staying here tonight, are you?" she asked with a teasing glare.
"I wish I could, but I ca—"
"Don't even try," she cut in, flipping open her laptop. "You have two assignments due Monday and a presentation for Demos. You brought me this laptop, and I see all your reminders."
He sighed and shut the laptop with a chuckle. "Okay, okay. You win. I won't stay."
"It's not just about tonight, Mendu. You don't want to disappoint your mother again. She didn't believe your last lie—you barely got away with it."
"You're right," he said, rubbing his head.
Star dug through her bag, pulled out his AirPods, and slipped them on.
"Oh, you can't just take those!" he objected.
"You should've thought about that before bringing me a laptop without earphones," she said smugly.
"Alright, hands up," he teased. Then his phone rang. While he took the call, Star played music and started dancing in bed.
Mandume laughed. "Damn… you can dance!"
"What?" she asked, removing an earbud.
"Your earphones are too loud—I couldn't even hear myself think," he joked. "But seriously, I didn't know you had moves."
"I'm the best dancer ever," she grinned.
"You don't look like one."
"Where do you think I learned it?"
"In your imagination?"
"Exactly. Everyone dances best in their imagination."
They laughed.
"I can only dance better seated. Once I stand, I lose balance. It's like I don't have legs," she added.
"So, you can't dance at all," Mandume said, just as his phone rang again.
"It's Mom. You're right—I should go now."
"Thanks for the time. I think I'll just sleep now," Star said.
"There's a Comrades Comedy file on the laptop. Watch it if you're not sleepy."
"Thanks, Mendu."
"I love you, Star."
"You too, Mendu."
He walked to the door. Star suddenly called out.
"Mendu."
He turned. "Yeah?"
She got out of bed and hugged him tightly.
Mandume's thoughts whispered in his mind: Why does this hug feel… different? Why does it feel like I'm losing her?
"I don't want you to leave yet," she murmured.
"I can stay for a bit—"
But Maria kept calling.
"I'll see you tomorrow," Star said, stepping back.
"Okay…"
He let go of her hand in slow motion, then left. Star crawled into bed and looked at her phone.
"Oh no—my screen is cracked! I hate it like this. Mxiii. Must've happened when Ma'am's goons attacked me."
Mandume arrived home and sat dreamily at the bar. Christine entered quietly.
"How is Star?" she asked.
"She's okay, Grandma," he replied.
"Are your instincts still bothering you?"
That's when it hit him again.
"Grandma, I'm sorry. I should've listened to them. I've never felt this way before."
"You've never felt like Star was slipping away," she said softly.
"Yes. When I entered the hospital, someone said, 'I'm sorry we got here late,' and my world just… spun. All I could hear was her laughter, her voice, her silly jokes. Then someone mentioned me just like she would—'Mendu.' That's when I knew she wasn't gone."
"Wait… Star was dead?" Christine asked in disbelief.
"Yes, Grandma. You arrived when she was stable. But I found her lifeless. They needed two blood types—hers and the baby's—and they were both different. Mr. Tomas gave his, but it was too late. The hospital didn't have the baby's type."
"Then… how did she survive?"
"The baby has the same blood type as me."
Christine froze.
"What did you say?"
"Grandma, I know where your mind's going. Mr. Tomas thought the same. So… we did a DNA test. These are the results." He handed her the report.
Christine's hands trembled.
"This means…?"
"It means Star is pregnant with my brother's child. But, Grandma… do I have a brother?"
"Mandume…" she stammered. "I… I don't know. Your mother only ever spoke of you and Angel."
"Maybe she or Dad kept it secret. I should show Mom this—she'll tell me the truth."
"No! Not yet," Christine said quickly. "There's a reason why this has stayed hidden. Let me handle it for now."
"But why? Mom would know for sure."
Christine's thoughts screamed: How do I tell you Maria isn't your real mother?
Out loud, she only said, "No, dear. Don't upset her now. It's been a long day. Let's wait for the right time. Maybe your father kept this from her."
"You're right, Grandma. Maybe it's from Dad's side. But the truth will come out."
"I know, and we'll face it—together. Go with Star tomorrow. Try to meet him. Let's gather proof first."
"Star said he may not live there anymore, but I'll find a way," Mandume promised.
"Be careful, my son," Christine said, her heart heavy with secrets.