Chapter 74: The Weight of the Day

Chapter 74: The Weight of the Day
Detective Philip arrived at the Joe's residence just before 9:00 PM. The streets were quiet, the only sound was the occasional rustling of leaves blown around by the aftermath of the earlier storm. The sky was still dark, but the wind had calmed. Most of the neighbours’ homes were already dark, their occupants likely asleep or winding down from the day. It was the kind of stillness that usually brought peace—but tonight, it only felt heavier.

As the car slowed down in front of the house, Lydia peered out the window, her eyes scanning the area around her home. She took a moment before opening the door, staring intently at the corners of the street and shadows cast by the lamppost across the road. Maybe she was hoping—no, expecting—to see a dark figure lurking nearby. Maybe a part of her still feared that the danger hadn’t truly passed. But there was no one there. Only the silence and the heavy air of exhaustion.

Instead, what caught her attention was a box sitting outside the front door.

She stepped out of the car quietly, her movements slow and deliberate as if her body was moving but her mind was still lagging behind. Julia followed closely behind, stretching her arms and groaning lightly, trying to shake off the long day from her shoulders.

“Good night, girls,” Detective Philip said, stepping out slightly from the driver’s seat and leaning toward them. “Try to get some rest tonight. Dennis is strong—he’s still fighting. And I’m sorry we dragged you all the way to the hospital and couldn’t even finish what we started.”

Lydia forced a small smile, her eyes still on the street. “It’s fine, Detective. Thank you… for acting fast. Dennis is still alive because of that. That’s what matters now.”

There was a heaviness in her voice, the kind that doesn’t come from tiredness alone. Julia glanced at her but said nothing, choosing to let the silence speak where words couldn’t.

They waited by the door for a moment, and it became clear that Detective Philip wasn’t going to leave until he saw them both go in. His face remained neutral, but the protective edge in his body language hadn’t left since the hospital. He scanned the area around the house once more before finally nodding to himself.

“It seems we have a delivery,” Julia said, bending down to pick up the box near the door. “I don’t remember ordering anything.”

Lydia didn’t respond. She opened the front door and stepped inside, the familiar scent of home hitting her in a way that felt strange after the chaos of the day. The air inside was warm and still. Nothing had changed, but everything felt different.

The moment the door shut behind them, Detective Philip turned the car around and slowly drove off, his headlights disappearing down the road.

Julia dropped her bag on the couch, set the package on the coffee table, and took off her shoes. She slumped into the nearest chair with a groan. “I can’t believe all I’ve had today is toast. Not even tea. Just toast.”

She looked toward Lydia. “What should we eat? Should I check if we still have some leftover rice or maybe boil some yams?”

Lydia didn’t answer. She was standing still near the entrance of the hallway, staring into nothing. Her eyes weren’t blinking much. She seemed frozen in place, her mind far from the living room.

“I’ll figure something out,” Julia mumbled to herself, trying not to press.

But Lydia suddenly turned and headed toward her room, grabbing her bag as she walked away. “I’m not hungry. There’s food in the kitchen… You can eat,” she said, disappearing down the corridor.

Julia didn’t argue. She understood.

Lydia stepped into her room and gently closed the door behind her. The silence felt heavier here. The room was just as she’d left it that morning, but it no longer brought the comfort it once did. She dropped her bag at the foot of the bed and sat down slowly. Her palms came up to her face, resting her head in them as she let out a long, shaky breath. Her brain was replaying everything that had happened—from the initial call at the mall, to Dennis lying in the hospital bed, tubes connected to his nose, and his head swathed in bandages. It was too much. Way too much.

She stood up and walked to the mirror. Her face looked pale and distant, her eyes slightly sunken from exhaustion. She removed her earrings and let them drop into the jewellery bowl on the dresser. Then she slowly began to undress, peeling off the clothes she’d been wearing since morning. Everything felt tight and heavy against her skin. Her shoulders ached. Even her wrists hurt from how often she’d been clenching her fists without realising.

She made her way into the bathroom, turned on the shower, and let the water run before stepping in.

As the warm water washed over her, she didn’t cry. She just stood there, letting the sound of the water fill her ears and distract her thoughts. Her arms hung by her side, and her head tilted slightly forward. She didn’t want to think. She just wanted to be blank, even if just for a few minutes.

Back in the living room, the house phone began to ring. Julia, who had just finished heating up some rice from the fridge, paused and reached for the receiver.

“Hello?” she said, pressing the phone to her ear.

“Julia? It’s mum,” came the voice of Mrs. Joe. Her tone was calm and unsuspecting. “How are you girls? We haven’t heard from you all day. Is everything okay over there?”

Julia tensed, unsure of how to even begin. She moved away from the kitchen, sitting on the edge of the couch.

“There’s… there’s been a lot, Mum,” Julia said, her voice quiet. “You probably shouldn’t talk to Lydia right now—she’s in the shower. It’s been a really long day.”

Mrs. Joe paused. “What happened? Is everything alright?”

Julia took a breath. “There was an incident. Dennis—he was attacked. We were at the hospital all day. He just came out of surgery not long ago.”

“Oh my God,” her mother whispered. “Is he okay now?”

“He’s stable,” Julia replied. “But he still has to go through one more surgery. They had to stop the internal bleeding first. That’s all we know for now.”

There was silence on the other end. The kind of silence that speaks volumes.

“I’ll fill you in properly tomorrow,” Julia added. “Let Lydia sleep tonight. Please.”

Mrs. Joe agreed, though clearly concerned, and they ended the call.

Julia peeked into Lydia’s room. Hearing the shower still running, she gently closed the door and returned to the living room. She took the box that had been outside their home earlier—and placed it next to the others, unopened, near the door. She wasn’t in the mood to check it now. Whatever it was, it could wait till morning.

By the time Lydia came out of the bathroom, the air in her room was slightly humid. Her skin was clean, but the tiredness had only deepened. She dried off quickly, not bothering with lotion or body cream. Everything felt like a chore tonight.

She wore her pyjamas—an old, faded one with a barely visible floral print—and climbed into bed. Her muscles ached, not from any physical activity, but from holding so much tension all day. Her body felt heavier than usual. Her arms and legs, even her eyelids.

She lay back against her pillow, pulling the covers over her body. She kept on looking at the ceiling as her eyes began to close, and soon enough, sleep claimed her.