A Killer In Uniform

Chapter Two – Dear Sister...

When I got home from school that afternoon, the house smelled faintly of smoke and palm oil. Mama was in the kitchen, frying stew she probably wouldn’t eat. Since Helena’s death, cooking had become her therapy but most times the food ended up untouched.

“Welcome, my daughter,” she said, forcing a smile. Her eyes looked swollen, as though she had cried herself empty again.

“Good afternoon, Mama,” I replied softly, heading upstairs.

My dad wasn’t home. He rarely was these days. He buried himself in work, avoiding the sadness that soaked our walls. I sometimes wished he would sit with me, ask me how I was really doing, but instead he’d only say things like “Focus on your exams, Elsa. Don’t let this tragedy ruin your future.”

Upstairs in our room, I sat on my bed, staring at Helena’s handwriting on the folded note I had found. My hands shook as I opened it again.

> “Dear sister, if anything ever happens to me, please don’t believe it was my choice. I can’t write much. Just know I love you, Elsie. Don’t stop asking questions.”

I read it five times, each word pressing harder against my chest. She called me Elsie, her nickname for me. Only Helena did.

My eyes burned, and I buried my face in her pillow, inhaling the faint scent of her hair cream. Tears filled my eyes.

For a long while, I couldn’t move. The note confirmed it. Helena hadn’t chosen death. Someone had taken her away.

But who?

I had to find out.

I had to find out who killed her.

I forced myself to pull out my textbooks. JAMB was less than 3 months away. I had a lot to cover and a lot to read. I scribbled some practice equations, but the numbers blurred with memories.

“Helena, stop pressing your calculator like it’s a piano!”

“And you stop frowning like you’re solving world hunger!” she’d tease.

I cried again.

Later that evening, Chike called.

“Babe, you reach house?” she asked. The background noise of her siblings screaming filled the line.

“Yeah,” I said, my voice flat.

“Try eat something, okay? And don’t kill yourself with book today. I know you have a hot and beautiful brain but you're not a machine. You need rest or else Mariam will stop calling you her baby girl because you look like an old woman”

I smiled faintly. Chike had a way of sounding harsh even when she cared.

"Thanks dear. I will"

After the call, I scrolled through my w******p. Old chats with Helena stared back at me. The last one was a month ago:

Helena: Don’t wait for me after prep today. I have to see someone.

Me: Who?

Helena: Just someone. I’ll gist you later.

But she never did.

The memory made my skin tickle. Who had she gone to see? Did it have any relation to that note? My mind was racing.

Downstairs, Mama called me to eat, but I barely touched the rice on my plate. My stomach was a knot. I kept thinking about that note. About the empty desk in class. About the questions nobody seemed willing to ask.

“I’ll find out the truth, Helena. I promise.”

And for the first time since her funeral, I felt something other than sadness in my chest; a purpose, small, but strong enough to keep me awake until dawn.