In the fluorescent-lit purgatory of exam season, Funi sat cross-legged on her bed, surrounded by a fortress of textbooks and crumpled papers. The clock on her phone flashed 2:37 AM, each red digit a silent accusation of time slipping away.

Funi's eyes, red-rimmed and unfocused, skimmed over Sherifat's meticulous notes. The words blurred and danced, refusing to settle into coherent thoughts. She blinked hard, willing her brain to absorb something, anything.

Two weeks. It had been two weeks since Kel...

No. She couldn't think about that now. She couldn't afford to spiral, not with exams looming like storm clouds on the horizon. But grief has a way of seeping through the cracks, doesn't it? It clings to the edges of every thought, a constant, dull ache that refuses to be ignored.

Funi's hand absently drifted to her lower abdomen, where another kind of pain throbbed in cruel harmony. Her period, as if sensing her emotional distress, had decided to unleash its full fury. Because apparently, the universe thought she needed an extra dose of misery.

A soft ping from her phone. Another message from Marie:

"Hanging in there, Funi? Need anything?"

Funi's thumbs hovered over the keyboard. What could she say? "Oh, you know, just slowly unraveling while trying to cram an entire semester's worth of knowledge into my grief-addled brain. No biggie!" Instead, she typed:

"I'm okay. Good luck with your own exams."

It wasn't entirely a lie. She was okay in the way that a person treading water in the middle of the ocean is okay. Sure, she hadn't drowned yet, but land was nowhere in sight.

As she set her phone down, a knock echoed through her tiny dorm room. Funi froze, her heart suddenly racing. Who could it be at this ungodly hour? For a wild, irrational moment, she thought it might be Kel, coming to tell her it had all been a terrible mistake.

But Kel was gone, swept away by a careless driver and the cruel randomness of the universe. And Funi was left here, trying to make sense of differential equations and organic chemistry while her world imploded.

She stood, her joints creaking in protest, and made her way to the door. As her hand reached for the knob, Funi realized that whoever was on the other side was about to see her in all her sleep-deprived, tear-stained glory. But maybe, just maybe, they were bringing something she desperately needed: a lifeline, a moment of reprieve, or at the very least, some really strong coffee.

With a deep breath, Funi opened the door, and the harsh fluorescent light from the hallway spilled into her room, illuminating Anthony's hunched figure. He leaned against the doorframe, a living monument to grief and poor coping mechanisms. The acrid smell of cheap whiskey and stale cigarettes wafted in, making Funi's stomach churn.

"What do you want, Anthony?" Funi asked, her voice a mixture of exhaustion and wariness.

Anthony's bloodshot eyes struggled to focus on her face. "Can I... can I come in?" he slurred, swaying slightly.

Funi's first instinct was to slam the door shut, to protect her fragile sanctuary from this intrusion. But something stopped her – a memory, perhaps, of better days. Of laughter shared over greasy pizza, of inside jokes that made no sense to anyone else. Of Kel, sandwiched between them, his arm slung carelessly over both their shoulders.

"You can't come in like this," Funi said firmly, moving to close the door.

Anthony's hand shot out, surprisingly quick for someone so inebriated. "I have nowhere else to go," he mumbled, his voice cracking on the last word.

Funi froze, her hand still on the doorknob. She regarded Anthony, really looked at him for the first time since that awful day. His clothes were rumpled, his usual cocky grin replaced by a haunted expression that mirrored her own inner turmoil.

They were all grieving, weren't they? Each in their own destructive way. Funi had chosen isolation, burying herself in textbooks and memories. And Anthony... well, Anthony had chosen a more volatile path.

The gang. The very thing Kel had worked so hard to pull Anthony away from. It felt like a betrayal, a desecration of Kel's memory. But wasn't Funi's self-imposed exile a kind of betrayal too? Shutting out the world, shutting out the people who understood her pain best?

With a sigh that seemed to come from the very depths of her soul, Funi stepped aside. "Come in," she said quietly. "But if you puke on my notes, I swear I'll end you."

Anthony stumbled inside, and Funi shut the door behind him. The click of the latch felt oddly final, as if she had just made a decision that would ripple out far beyond this night.

As Anthony collapsed onto her bed, narrowly missing a stack of meticulously organized flashcards, Funi leaned back against the door. She closed her eyes for a moment, allowing herself to feel the full weight of everything – the looming exams, the cruel absence of Kel, and now, this unexpected complication.

When she opened her eyes again, she saw Anthony fumbling with something in his jacket pocket. "What are you doing?" she asked, a note of suspicion creeping into her voice.

Anthony looked up, his eyes glassy but determined. "I found something," he said, his words still slurred but charged with an urgency that cut through the alcoholic haze. "About the... the accident. About Kel."

Funi's heart raced and her mind whirled with possibilities, each more unsettling than the last.

"What do you mean, you found something?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper. "Toto, what are you talking about?"

Finally, Anthony pulled out a crumpled envelope. His trembling hands fumbled with it, nearly dropping it twice before he managed to hold it out to Funi.

"This," he slurred, "was slid under my door. No return address. But I know... I know it's about Kel."

Funi hesitated, her hand hovering inches from the envelope. Part of her wanted to snatch it away, to tear into whatever secrets it held. Another part wanted to run, to pretend this moment never happened and return to the numbing comfort of her study materials.

But curiosity, that relentless human drive, won out. She took the envelope, her fingers tracing the edges of the paper.

"Have you opened it?" she asked, looking up at Anthony.

He shook his head, a rueful smile playing at the corners of his mouth. "Couldn't... couldn't do it alone. Needed you. We're the only ones left, Ifunanya. The only ones who really knew him."

The weight of those words settled over the room like a heavy blanket. Funi sank onto the bed beside Anthony, the envelope clutched tightly in her hands.

"Should we... should we open it now?" she asked, her voice small and uncertain.

Anthony nodded, his eyes suddenly clearer than they had been all night. "Together," he said.

With trembling fingers, Funi carefully tore open the envelope. Inside was a single sheet of paper, folded neatly in thirds. As she unfolded it, a small object fell onto her lap – a USB drive, unremarkable except for the fact that it potentially held answers to questions they hadn't even known to ask.

The letter was brief, typed in a plain font that gave no clues to its origin:

"To the friends of Kelechi 'Kel' Ezeh,

What happened on the evening of July 15th was not an accident. The truth is on this drive. Be careful who you trust. They're watching."

Funi read the words aloud, her voice shaking more with each line. When she finished, she looked up at Anthony, seeing her own shock and disbelief mirrored in his face.

"What... what does this mean?" she asked, though she feared she already knew the answer.

Anthony's face had gone pale, the effects of alcohol seeming to evaporate in the face of this new reality. "It means," he said slowly, "that someone killed Kel. And they wanted us to know."

The silence that followed was deafening. Outside, the world continued its indifferent spin – students crammed for exams, lovers quarreled and reconciled, life marched on. But in Funi's small dorm room, time seemed to stand still.

She looked down at the USB drive in her hand, then at her laptop sitting innocuously on her desk. Whatever was on that drive would change everything. There would be no going back, no pretending they didn't know.

"Should we look?" Funi asked, though she already knew the answer.

Anthony nodded grimly. "We owe it to Kel," he said, his voice thick with emotion.

As Funi moved to her desk, laptop in hand, she felt a strange mix of fear and determination. Whatever they were about to uncover, whatever darkness lay ahead, she knew one thing for certain: the real test was just beginning, and it had nothing to do with her upcoming exams.

With a deep breath, she plugged in the USB drive, ready to face whatever truth awaited them.

Funi stared at the empty screen, her brow furrowed in confusion and frustration. "What the fuck is this?" she muttered, the anticipation that had been building suddenly deflating like a punctured balloon.

Anthony's gaze darted around the room, settling anywhere but on Funi's face. He seemed lost in thought for a moment before responding, his voice oddly controlled. "Could be someone playing a prank. Don't let it bother you."

He reached over, quickly ejecting the USB drive from Funi's laptop. "You should take it off your laptop in case it had a virus or spyware prank," he added, pocketing the drive with a casualness that felt forced.

Funi's eyes narrowed, suspicion creeping into her voice. "Anthony, what's going on?"

He shook his head, avoiding her gaze. "Forget about it. I'll get to the root of it all."

Something about his demeanor didn't sit right with Funi. The urgency from earlier had vanished, replaced by an almost rehearsed nonchalance. But before she could press further, Anthony's eyes landed on the stack of notes scattered across her bed.

"What exam do you have?" he asked, his tone suddenly light, as if they hadn't just experienced a surreal moment of anticlimactic mystery.

Funi rolled her eyes, exasperation momentarily overriding her suspicion. "The same one you have in a few days, given that we're in the same department," she replied dryly.

Anthony's eyes widened slightly, a quiet "Shit" escaping his lips.

The room fell into an uncomfortable silence. Funi's mind raced, trying to piece together the bizarre events of the night. The mysterious letter, the empty USB drive, Anthony's strange behavior – none of it added up.

She looked at Anthony, really looked at him. The drunken haze seemed to have lifted, replaced by a tension she couldn't quite place. Was it fear? Guilt? Or something else entirely?

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