INT. ROOM 7, WING C, ST. NICHOLAS HOSPITAL - CONTINUOUS
Chioma’s face is wearing a WIDE smile that reveals her sparkling-white gap-teeth, which tells that she’d secretly wished for a way to relive those moments with Emeka, a million times over.
CHIOMA
That was the last time I saw Emeka.
FEMI (looking confused)
Hold on, you never told me about the part when you responded to Emeka’s text message.
CHIOMA
What makes you think I responded to
Emeka’s message?
CHIOMA (CONT’D)
(sad)
I never got the chance to.
Femi pulls out from his left trouser pocket, a mobile-phone, NEATLY concealed in a small, transparent waterproof bag, probably being held as evidence.
FEMI (shakes the bag)
Is this yours?
CHIOMA (happy)
Yes.
FEMI
Well your phone tells me something different.
Chioma looks confused.
CHIOMA
I don’t follow.
FEMI
You actually responded to Emeka’s text message. A message was sent from your phone to Emeka at exactly ten thirty-two PM yesterday.
FEMI (CONT’D)
Do you remember sending any message to Emeka at that time?
Chioma’s confusion doesn’t wear off.
CHIOMA
No. I don’t remember sending a message to Emeka.