The Dice #44

It had been three days.

Dunni was still heavily sedated, her breath shallow, her chest rising and falling in a slow, fragile rhythm. The hospital room pulsed with a low mechanical hum of monitors, IV drips, distant voices muffled behind thick walls. The acrid bite of antiseptic hung in the air, layered over the stale bitterness of Moses’ untouched coffee cooling on the side table.

He sat slumped in a hard white turned brown plastic chair, unshaven, eyes sunken with exhaustion. No one could convince him to leave. Her mother came and went, slipping home to rest and return. Ola stopped by once a day — though Moses had barely noticed the passage of time.

“Man, you need to get out of here and clean up,” Ola urged, voice rough as he leaned against the doorframe. “You look bad enough to send her into another coma if she wakes up and sees you.”

Moses didn’t flinch. His gaze remained fixed on Dunni. “At least when she wakes, she’ll see me. You should’ve seen how she clung to me after the rescue. Wouldn’t let go until they sedated her. How I look will be the least of her worries.”

Ola folded his arms, exhaling through his nose. “And even now, I think she knows you’re here.”

A tired smile ghosted across Moses’ lips. “Her body’s asleep, but her heart… maybe it remembers.”

Ola let out a dry chuckle. “Three days in the hospital and now you’re suddenly a doctor, huh?”

Moses gave a weak laugh, shaking his head. “I’ll leave when she opens her eyes. Until then… this is where I stay.”

“You need a break, bro.”

Moses ran a hand down his face, stubble rasping against his palm. “I can’t. I see the way Tade’s been looking at me, but this isn’t about him. We all want her to recover. Dunni is my heart — always has been, always will be. Married or not… that doesn’t change. Her wellbeing comes first.”

Ola’s tone softened, a note of caution threading through his words. “But she chose him. We’ve got to respect that.”

“I do,” Moses said quietly, voice taut with barely masked ache. “But you don’t just stop loving someone after sixteen years. That would take another lifetime.”

Ola’s phone buzzed, and he glanced at the screen with a grimace. “More lies. Now they’re claiming the military rescued the women… saying a terrorist bomb went off by accident. We both know that’s nonsense.”

Moses nodded grimly. They all knew the so-called cleanup crew or whatever they truly were had their own reasons for wanting that land. The government’s line about building a factory to foster development, erase the land’s dark reputation, and attract foreign investors reeked of spin. Putting up smokescreens for the citizenry was their usual modus operandi. But in this country, strange was normal.

Then a soft moan broke through the sterile hush. Both men’s eyes flicked to Dunni as her eyelids fluttered, lashes trembling, then slowly parted. Her gaze roved the room, glassy but aware.

“What’s… happening?” she whispered, voice dry and cracked. “Am I… home?”

Moses was already leaning forward, elbows on his knees. “If you call this hospital bed home… then yes.”

A choked laugh caught in his throat, relief crashing through him like a wave. He hadn’t realized just how tightly the fear had coiled inside him until now.

Across the thin hospital blanket, Dunni attempted to lift her hand playfully but a sharp gasp escaped instead.

“That hurts,” she murmured, a crease deepening between her brows as pain flickered across her features.

“Easy,” Moses murmured, voice gentling. He shifted closer, instinctively protective.

Her throat worked as she swallowed. “The others?” she asked, her words fragile, every syllable laced with effort. Another shadow of pain crossed her face.

“They’re safe,” Moses answered softly. “I’m… I’m sorry about your friend.”

Her eyes squeezed shut, breath hitching. “I have to find her family,” she whispered. “She had a son.”

“As soon as you’re strong enough,” Moses replied quickly, knowing her too well. His fingers hovered, then pressed the call button. “But first… you need to rest.”

A soft chime echoed, and within moments the door swung open. Nurses bustled in, the crisp rustle of linens and muted clink of equipment filling the space.

“Out,” one of them ordered, already moving to the bedside.

Moses and Ola exchanged a look, then stepped out into the hallway.

Outside, Moses stretched, knuckling the back of his neck. The adrenaline had left him drained. “My work here is done,” he said with a weary grin. “Catching the next flight out.”

“Won’t you say goodbye?” Ola asked.

Ola shook his head. “Nah. I’ve done what I came here for. No point making it awkward. She’s safe — that’s all that matters. Now I can finally sleep. Win-win.”