Chapter 2 MIDNIGHT WHISPERS

It was exactly 10:00 PM when Chisom stepped into the familiar warmth of her bedroom. The air was scented with lavender from Daniella's essential oil diffuser, and a soft hum from the ceiling fan filled the quiet space. She closed the door gently behind her, careful not to wake anyone else in the house.

Daniella was sitting cross-legged on her bed, her Bible open beside her, a notebook in her lap. She looked up as Chisom entered, a mischievous smile tugging at her lips.

"Welcome, Miss," Daniella said, raising an eyebrow like a school principal waiting to scold a tardy student.

Chisom blinked, momentarily startled, then rolled her eyes with a chuckle. "You're still awake?"

Daniella nodded, shutting her notebook with a soft thud. "Yes. I was waiting for you... so that you can lead us in prayer."

Chisom smirked as she dropped her bag by her desk and kicked off her sneakers. "Me? Lead prayer? Since when did I become the minister of the house?"

"Since always," Daniella said, teasingly. "You know your voice sounds more spiritual at night. Go ahead, woman of God."

Chisom laughed and shook her head. "Alright, fine. Let's pray."

She climbed onto her bed and bowed her head. Daniella did the same, pulling the covers over her legs. Chisom's voice softened as she began.

"Dear Heavenly Father, thank You for this day. Thank You for our family, for peace, for the strength to carry through every challenge. We ask for protection tonight, for sweet rest and even sweeter dreams. Bless our loved ones-especially the ones always on our minds..."

Daniella peeked one eye open and smirked.

Chisom faltered, her cheeks heating, then cleared her throat and continued quickly. "... and help us to wake up tomorrow full of joy and gratitude. Amen."

"Amen," Daniella echoed, drawing her blanket up to her chin. "That part about 'on our minds'-anyone I know?"

Chisom made a face. "What do you mean?"

"You know what I mean." Daniella grinned. "You were thinking of David Isaac, weren't you?"

Chisom didn't answer immediately. Instead, she reached for her pillow, fluffed it up dramatically, and fell back against it with a deep sigh. Her smile gave her away.

Daniella's voice turned playful. "Just admit it already. You like him."

Chisom stared at the ceiling fan, watching it spin. "I didn't say I didn't."

"Finally," Daniella whispered with mock reverence. "She admits it."

"I didn't admit anything," Chisom countered, though her grin was as wide as the moonlight streaming through the window. "I just said I didn't say I didn't."

Daniella sat up slightly and switched off the bedside lamp, leaving the room bathed in silver and shadow. "Good night, Chichi."

Chisom turned her face toward the wall, still smiling. "Good night."

There was a brief pause. Then she hugged her pillow tightly and whispered, almost to herself, "David Isaac..."

Daniella giggled quietly from her side of the room. "Even in darkness, your voice sounds like you're blushing."

Chisom tossed a pillow across the room, hitting Daniella on the head. "Sleep!"

"Sleeping," Daniella replied with a yawn, tossing the pillow back. "Dream of your church-boy prince."

But as the silence settled again, Chisom's thoughts drifted. David Isaac. There was something about him-how he was always calm even when things got chaotic, how he spoke as if his words were carefully chosen, how he looked at her like he saw something more than just another girl in the hallway.

She closed her eyes and let her imagination take over. What would he say if he knew? Would he laugh? Smile? Would he be surprised-or had he known all along?

Her heart fluttered with the kind of giddy nervousness she hadn't felt since junior secondary school. It was strange, having feelings for someone like David-so composed, so mature. He was different from the others, and somehow that scared her and thrilled her at the same time.

From across the room, Daniella's breathing grew steady and deep. Chisom whispered a silent goodnight again, this time to the version of David Isaac in her dreams. Hugging her pillow tighter, she let herself sink into that quiet space between reality and fantasy, where thoughts become stories and prayers feel like wishes.

Outside, the crickets sang in rhythm with the breeze, and in that small room of sisterly banter, whispered confessions, and prayer, the night folded gently around them.