TILL THE END
In the dim glow of his living room in Lagos, Mr. Titus sat across from his best friend, Roland. The night was quiet except for the low hum of the ceiling fan. “Why not do away with her?” Roland asked, his voice low, testing the waters. Titus shook his head slowly. “That stopped being an option long before we exchanged those sacred vows.” Before Roland could reply, the front door flew open. Mrs. Margaret, Titus’ wife’s younger sister, rushed in, her face tight with worry. No words were needed—Titus and Roland understood instantly. Something terrible had happened again. They arrived at the hospital in a blur. Mrs. Titus lay pale on the stretcher, eyes closed, as nurses wheeled her urgently toward the theatre. Titus walked beside her, gripping the rail, while Roland kept pace, silent and grim. In the waiting room, hours stretched like days. “This one is worse,” Roland muttered. “I know,” Titus replied quietly. “I hope she survives it.” Titus turned to his friend with a look th...
