James widened his eyes and moved closer to the screen. He replayed the video and paused it where the lady was entering. He tried to look clearly to see if the figure was really familiar,but no matter how close he looked, the lady did not resemble Joyce.But, that dress was the same as Joyce's and according to the time and date, it was the night he had been to the club with her. He stopped himself from thinking further. He trusted Joyce. "Isn't this Joyce? So, her aim was to steal the money when she came by. How could she? She has no sha–" James was pissed off. "Mum!" He called, trying to control his anger.  "Do you realize who you are talking about?" He asked in case her mother had forgotten that Joyce was his fiancée. "I find it hard to believe, too, but she's the one we're seeing here," his mother protested. No matter how much she loved the lady, she would never condone her acting in such a

James brought her outside the living room into the compound beside his car. He suggested for them to go inside and talk but she had refused with the excuse that she was okay with standing on her feet.She could not look at him. She kept playing with her fingers and sniff once in five seconds.James also had red eyeballs as a result of hurt and anger, but he could not say if the anger was directed at himself or Joyce. "Joyce, I–" the remaining words got caught up in his throat. He sniffed, put a palm over his nose and mouth, then returned the hand back to being in his blue hoodie."I'm... I am sor...sorry,"Joyce apologized, still not looking at him.He shook his head. "Don't tell me you are sorry, Joyce,because I know very well that you were lying earlier."Joyce was taken aback. He trusted her. Her mind started jubilating, but teary expression remained on her face. S

Few hours later, her parents arrived and sat on a couch. Joyce was not in the room so her mother called out for her. She wondered the state her daughter would be in at that moment. She had just finished dinner with her husband and was about to have a nap when she had heard a soft knock on the door. She had left her spouse in the living room to answer the door. She had expected the person to be Joyce, though she was not the type that knock when coming in, but you never can tell when she act strange sometimes.  She had opened the door for a young woman  who would probably be in her early twenties. She had been so sweet and charming. She had even greeted her and her husband as if they had known one another for long. So, with that, she won her heart. She allowed her inside and even served her a cup of tea.  

Joyce rushed outside her room to the bathroom to puke. She had been ill and had been having morning sickness for a few days now. She had been feeling very weak and lazy to even wash to even wash the dishes. She opened the tap and rinsed her mouth a few times. She placed her hands on the zinc and sighed, looking at herself in the mirror.  "I need to get myself treated for malaria," she muttered to herself as she closed her eyes briefly. She heard someone cleared their throat behind her, so she looked at the entrance beside her and saw her mother watching her in some kind of way. She could not decipher what the look meant, so she raised a brow, indirectly asking her mother what the problem was and why she was staring, more like glaring at her. Instead of replying, Felicia moved closer to her and soothingly rubbed her daughter's belly, hoping she would get the hint of what she was trying to relay to her. But unfortunately, Joyce looked

James was in his office for the first time in weeks. He needed to go if he did not want his company to liquidate. He had to monitor the business going on in the company or he was going to lose a whole lot. Things had not been very easy for him. He had not been doing well and the sadness within him was boldly written on his face. Anyone could see that he had not been his usual self. Most of his employees had been asking him what was wrong with him and all he could tell them was that he fell sick. That was not a lie actually, and it was definitely not the truth as well. But he could not just be explaining everything that happened to them. That was his personal life and problem. He managed to finish some paperworks at work and gave the rest up till the following day. He had piles of files to go through. How he wished Joyce was still with him! Those contracts would take her not more than a day to review,which would make it easier for him to