I was guided by a quote that evening: “Never go to bed angry. Stay awake and plot your revenge!” And that’s exactly what I planned to do. JK needed to know where power lay. I was furious, but I forced myself to stay calm. I didn’t want a repeat of what happened the last time I let anger lead me into trouble.
By then, my mum had returned from the funeral. She wanted to know how my day went. I was so tempted to confess everything—to pour out the mess I had dropped myself into. But I stopped. She already had her share of problems. Why add mine to her burden? So when she asked, I said, “It was fine.” She looked at me for a long time, clearly not convinced, but I stuck to my lie.
Later in my room, I picked up the envelope that had fallen from JK’s pocket. Curiosity was boiling in me. I tried to open it, but the guilt hit me—what if it was private? It felt wrong. I tossed it beside my pillow and tried to sleep.
At exactly 3:00 a.m., I woke up. My sleep had vanished, stolen by invisible hands. The envelope was still lying there, staring at me like it was daring me to open it. Before I could change my mind, I tore it open.
Inside was a neatly folded white sheet of paper. A sweet perfume oozed out as I unfolded it. A love letter.
But for whom?
I placed it on the bed, stepped out to urinate, then returned and finally sat down to read it. I know you’re dying to see the whole thing, but I’ll spare you the mushy parts. Let me just share the line that burned me the most:
“I knew it wasn’t going to be easy for you, looking at how stubborn KD is. Please, my love, give me some time to deal with KD, after which we can continue enjoying our love. Hey, please stop getting so emotionally attached to my sister. She is not the target, but KD. I have my eyes on you. If you make any wrong move, I will spill the beans. Take care, my sweetheart, and I hope to see you at our usual place. Love you. Bye.”
My head spun. Trouble was looming, and I was right in the middle of it. I had been caged in a dirty conspiracy, and their target was me. But why? What “beans” was she threatening to spill if JK slipped? What was really going on?
At 6:00 a.m., I bathed, ironed my shirt, and polished my shoes. My mum was shocked to see me so ready for church that early. I explained I’d pass by Frank’s place first before heading to church. She gave me money, and I set off.
I got to Frank’s house, but he had been sent on an errand by his mum. With nothing else to do, I continued to church. On the way, I met Lucy’s mum in her posh car. She said she had just returned from Accra and invited me over to her house that evening.
I accepted. Maybe this was my chance to show her the letter. But a chilling thought crossed my mind: what if I told her the truth and she put me under house arrest too?
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