She had meant to kill him.
He deserved it.
The rain was relentless, beating against the windows of the small, run-down apartment. Annah sat in the corner, her knees drawn to her chest, staring out into the night. The room was cold, the flickering streetlight casting a pale glow across the damp walls. The world outside was a blur of grey and black, but inside, everything was still, almost suffocatingly so.
Annah's thoughts swirled, as they often did. She was used to the chaos in her mind, but tonight, it felt different—darker. It wasn't just the storm. No, tonight, something was wrong, something that made her skin crawl.
He had to die.
That was the first thing she told herself, even though she knew deep down that it didn't matter. She didn't have the luxury of innocence anymore.
Not after what she had done.
Not after her death.
The voice of her therapist, Dr. Kariuki, echoed in her mind. "You have to confront your past, Annah. It's the only way to move forward."
She had been trying to confront her past for years, but the more she tried, the more the shadows closed in on her, suffocating her. The memories were never clear—always fractured, jagged pieces that didn't fit together. Her mother's face, her father's cold stare, the way the world seemed to break apart in her hands.
These memories didn't have that person in them.How could she,when she had let her die like that?
It was all her fault but soon everything was going to fall into place.
We're going to meet soon.Forgive me for not doing this sooner.
Annah closed her eyes, trying to block out the memories, but the image of him,the victim,kept flashing before her eyes. His face was haunting, twisted in pain, but it wasn't just his face she remembered. It was the way his body went lifeless in her hands. He didn't even try to fight. How could she have let it happen?
Annah almost laughed as a chuckle slipped from her lips
It had been quick, so quick. She hadn't even realized what she was doing until it was too late. The tea had already been in her hand,as she offered it to him.As he realized what was happening he felt fear.He was shivering so much it was pitiful He had looked at her, pleading, but she couldn't stop. The process was noisy somehow.But when it was over, when the silence settled in, she knew she could never turn back.
Annah pushed herself to her feet, her legs unsteady beneath her. She needed to get out of the apartment, away from the walls that seemed to close in on her every time she breathed. The city was still alive outside, but it felt so far away, like a distant dream she couldn't reach. She walked to the small window, looking out at the darkened streets. People were moving, unaware of the nightmare unfolding just a few blocks away.
Her phone buzzed in her pocket, pulling her from her thoughts. She hesitated before pulling it out. The screen lit up with a message from Nurse Lina Wanja, her only friend in the world, the one person who always seemed to check in on her.
"Annah, are you okay? I haven't heard from you in a while. I'm worried."
Annah stared at the message for a moment, her fingers hovering over the screen. She couldn't tell Lina the truth. She couldn't tell anyone what she had done.
No one could know. Not yet.
Not until she was done.
The doorbell rang, a sharp, insistent sound that sliced through the silence like a knife. Annah froze. She hadn't been expecting anyone. She walked cautiously to the door, her heartbeat quickening with each step. She didn't want to open it. She didn't want to face whoever was on the other side.
She quickly looked to where her kitchen knife was and calculated how fast she could get to it.
But something inside her told her that she had no choice.
She pulled open the door, her heart in her throat.
Detective Stella Njoroge stood in the doorway, her face impassive. The rain had drenched her coat, her hair dark and matted against her forehead. But it wasn't the rain that made Annah's blood run cold. It was the look in the detective's eyes—calm, measured, but with something else lurking there. Something that made Annah's stomach twist.
"Annah Mwende," Detective Njoroge said, her voice even, almost too calm. "I need to ask you a few questions."
Annah's breath caught in her throat. She had seen the detective on TV, in the papers. Njoroge had a reputation for being one of the best, and now here she was, standing in Annah's doorway, with that look in her eyes.
"I... I'm not sure what you want from me," Annah stammered, trying to keep her voice steady, but it cracked, betraying the terror she felt.
Njoroge stepped forward, her presence imposing. "You might want to come with me. There's been a murder, Annah. A man named Mr Mbithi. And we have reason to believe you were involved."