Chapter 15 – Letters, Lies & Lockdown
© 2025 TenWrites — Do not copy this chapter o. Madam Eunice is watching you from the wardrobe.
The next morning, I sat cross-legged on our rug, the stack of old letters in front of me like treasure maps. Femi paced like a man who just realised his ancestors forgot to warn him about renting spiritually suspicious apartments.
"There are more letters," I said, carefully unwrapping the faded scarf. The scarf smelt like forgotten church fans and closed-up closets. The letters were neat. Dated. Numbered. All addressed… to nobody.
"Read one," Femi said, sitting beside me like a secondary school boy expecting a story about ghosts and betrayal.
I opened the second letter.
> "She smiles too much. That's how you know she's lying. I tried to leave, but every time I packed, something went wrong. First, the key disappeared. Then the okada man crashed before reaching my street. I was trapped in my own house."
I swallowed. "Femi… this is not Nollywood. This is real life. Who was she writing about?"
Just then, as if on cue, Mama Dorcas knocked on the door.
Femi gave me the don't open it look. I ignored him.
"Good morning, Mama," I said, peeking out.
She stepped in, all warm smiles and Sunday wrapper. "I heard… strange sounds last night. Are you both alright?"
Femi blinked. "We're fine."
Her eyes scanned the room. Rested on the letters.
"What's that?" she asked.
"Old receipts," I lied quickly. "From before NEPA had sense."
She smiled, but something shifted in her face. Then she reached into her wrapper and brought out—wait for it—another photo.
"This fell from your wardrobe this morning. It's Madam Eunice again. I thought you should have it."
Why was everything suddenly falling from our wardrobe?
Femi took the photo. "Thank you, Mama."
As soon as she left, we locked the door and sat down. I looked at the new photo. This time, Madam Eunice wasn't alone. She was standing beside someone—someone familiar.
Aunty. Sade.
In the photo, they were smiling. But Eunice's hand? It was clenching something behind her back — a key.
Femi pointed. "Helper? Trapped? Keys? Temi, this is getting deeper than the pit Mama Chika dug for her yam tubers."
I nodded slowly. "I think Eunice wasn't paranoid. I think she was scared for real. And Aunty Sade… wasn't always the holy sister she claims to be."
Just then, my phone buzzed.
A message from an unknown number:
"Stop digging. She warned you."
I dropped the phone like it was on fire.
Femi squinted. "Please tell me that's your cousin trying to prank us."
I shook my head.
And then… all the lights flickered. The fan began to spin backwards. And from the kitchen came the sound of a spoon dropping — even though neither of us had entered there.
We stared at each other.
Femi whispered, "So... what now?"
I took a deep breath. "Now? We read every single letter. We dig deeper. And we find out what happened to Madam Eunice. This palava is far from over."
To be continued…
© 2025 TenWrites —