The oldest was nearly twenty years old.
Every letter told the same story.
Each woman had married Obinna.
Each had been given the same rule.
Each had eventually looked beneath the bed.
Some escaped.
Others disappeared without warning.
The final envelope rested at the bottom of the box.
Unlike the others, it had my name written across the front.
Adaeze.
My blood ran cold.
With trembling fingers, I opened it.
Inside was a single page.
“If you found this, he’s already chosen you to replace me.”
“Don’t wait for him to explain.”
“Run.”
Attached to the note was a small key.
On the back, someone had written one address.
I didn’t stop to pack clothes.
I didn’t stop to think.
I grabbed my passport, my phone, and the wooden box before driving straight to the address.
It belonged to an elderly woman named Grace.
The moment she saw the key, tears filled her eyes.
“I’ve been waiting for someone to come,” she whispered.
Grace had once worked as Obinna’s housekeeper.
