The telephone ringing in the parlor jars with the tranquility of the afternoon, it was a very hot afternoon – the weather was so hot, too hot that you could literally fry eggs under the sun or at least that was what I thought.I shove aside the pile of paperwork I was working on and begrudgingly head towards the parlor for the telephone, I wasn’t in the mood for calls today and I sure wasn’t expecting to get any.The receiver feels heavy in my hand, like was it made of stone. I press it to my ear, expecting to hear the voice of a colleague from the office about the pile of paperwork I’m still yet to sort out. Instead I hear another voice.“Nnenna, kedu? How are you?” It was the voice of Abigail’s housekeeper, Mama Udo rasping through the tiny holes of the receiver."I am fine Ma. I hope all is well?''“Nne, all… is not well”, she stutters “There’s been an accident, she says, her voice trembles in a way I’ve never heard before. “Abigail… your sister… she’s gone. She committed…suicide’’.The words splintered in the air, and for a long moment, I couldn’t understand them. They didn’t connect to anything real, anything that made sense.My mind races, a very strong chill washes through my spine, a contrast to the scorching weather- my palm tightens around the telephone, as if it will squeeze out what I had just heard, this couldn’t be real.“Suicide?” I whisper, as if saying it aloud might shatter something, as if hearing it again would make it real. Mama Udo starts to cry, her quiet sobs seeping through the phone, “Yes, Nne. I found her this morning, the Doctor said she overdosed on her regular sleeping pills… I’m so, so sorry’’.I felt cold. I wasn’t even sure when I stood but the room was spinning – I dropped the phone to the floor, the clatter echoing like a gunshot in the silence.I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t cry. I couldn’t do anything but stand there, paralyzed by the weight of what I just heard. Everything I thought I knew about my sister collapsed leaving me with nothing but unanswerable questions.Why did she do it?Why now?She had it all…money, a supportive husband, beautiful kids, friends who adored her, a sister who loved her till death, a good father who would sacrifice his life for her…Why didn’t she talk to someone?Was she alone when she died?Was her transition to the other realm painful?Why wasn’t I with her when she took her last breath?I didn’t even get to say goodbye…. I couldn’t wrap my head around it all.Abigail had dedicated her life to making everyone around her better, she was always the strong one from an early age… a lot of people nicknamed her ‘’Agunwa- strong child’’ because of the way she carried everyone’s responsibility on her head like it was hers, never complaining… always ready to help.I remember the day Mama died giving birth to Johnny, our first boy, our brother.I was six, Abigail was ten, Abigail and I had gotten back from primary school, we washed our lunch boxes and our uniforms.Earlier on, Mama Udo had informed us that our mother was rushed to the hospital to deliver our brother.We were both so excited as we hurriedly did our homework and showered in anticipation for when our father would come pick us up and take us to meet our bundle of joy, our first brother and my mother.I remember that night clearly now, it was hard not to remember. It was already midnight and after waiting and waiting for Papa, I finally went to bed only to be woken by the voices of people screaming and crying. With sleepy eyes, I managed to pull myself up and head towards where the sounds were coming from.I reach the living room and there were so many people there, our neighbors were present, many others were present. Some were old, some were young, some pretty, some ugly, most were faces of people I had never seen in my life before. I could not understand why they all seemed so sad. Mama Udo was slouched on a chair by the corner, her eyes, red and puffy from crying. Then I see my father and something in me breaks, I had never seen a grown man cry so much. Growing up with a man like my father, I never thought men were capable of it but that night Papa knelt in the living room bawling his eyes out, he looked so pale and wasted like he had aged twenty years just in a night and Abigail stood over him, his head on her small shoulders, she wasn’t crying.Maybe she felt like she had to be the pillar right now and if she broke how would they be able to get back up.I was informed that Mama had complications during pregnancy, Johnny was stillborn and Mama had not survived. It was all too much to take in at once.Days turned into weeks and weeks turned into years and Abigail became like my second mum. I knew we were just four years apart but she always listened to me and advised me.Mama Udo took care of us but she was a traditional African woman and I couldn’t tell her innate things about myself, like my first boyfriend ….my first kiss. It was always Abigail.Fast forward to the present, Abigail was the only one who truly saw me, the only one who truly understood me.It had always been the both of us against the world, it felt as though a part of my body had been severed and there was nothing but a gaping void in it’s place.Then slowly the tears came because nothing in the world could have prepared me for this… life without Abigail.