Chapter 111 Pink and white Roses
Elsie
I stood before Clarita’s grave in the quiet cemetery, carefully placing the bouquet of pink and white roses at the foot of the headstone. They were her favorite flowers. She used to say pink made her feel soft and white made her feel clean, like nothing bad could touch her. I smiled sadly at the thought. I had only been here once since she was buried, and even now, standing here felt like reopening a wound that never truly healed. The guilt that she died looking out for me still ate at me every time her face crossed my mind.
“I’ll never be so weak again, Sis,” I whispered, my voice breaking as tears slid freely down my cheeks. I didn’t bother wiping them away. There was no one here to see me fall apart. “I’ll never let whoever killed you get away with it. I swear to you, I’ll find them, and I’ll make them pay.”
The wind rustled softly through the trees, brushing against my skin like a gentle hand. I took it as her listening. Clarita always listened. Even when we were little and I talked too much, she never told me to shut up. She just laughed and told me to breathe.
I lowered myself slowly onto the grass beside her grave, ignoring the cold seeping through my clothes. I traced her name on the headstone with my fingers, the letters already too familiar.
“Do you remember when we were kids and you dared me to steal mangoes from Mrs. Okorie’s backyard?” I said, letting out a small laugh that came out broken. “You told me she was too old to catch us. You lied. That woman ran like an Olympic athlete.”
I laughed through my tears now, shaking my head as the memory came rushing back. We had been so small, barefoot, with dust on our knees and mischief in our eyes. Clarita had climbed the tree easily while I stayed below, holding the hem of her dress like a lookout.
“You jumped down and ran without me,” I continued, sniffing. “You didn’t even look back. I tripped and fell into the gutter, and Mrs. Okorie caught me by the ear. You hid behind the church and laughed until you cried while I was getting the beating of my life.”
I pressed my lips together, my shoulders trembling as laughter mixed with sobs. “You said you were sorry later, but you never really were. You said it built character.”
I leaned my head against the cool stone, closing my eyes. “You were always like that. Brave. Reckless. Always protecting me in your own twisted way.”
Another memory surfaced, softer this time. “Do you remember how you used to braid my hair before school? You were terrible at it. My hair always looked like a bird’s nest, but you’d stand back proudly and say, ‘You look beautiful.’ And I believed you, because you said it.”
My chest tightened painfully. “You were the first person who ever made me feel like I was enough, Clarita. Before the world taught us otherwise.”
I wiped my face with the back of my hand and sat up straighter, taking a deep breath. “I miss you. God, I miss you so much. Every single day. There are moments I reach for my phone to call you, and then I remember.”
My voice softened, steadier now. “But your little sister is doing well. I want you to know that. I went back to school like we always talked about. I studied hard. I work in a corporate office now, Clarita. Can you imagine that? Me. Sitting behind a big desk, wearing heels that hurt my feet, attending meetings with people who listen when I speak.”
A small smile touched my lips. “I’m even a senior officer. You would have teased me nonstop. You’d say, ‘Look at you, Madam CEO.’”
I laughed quietly. “I wish you were here to see it. I wish you could walk into my office and put your feet on my desk as you used to, and I’d pretend to scold you while secretly feeling proud.”
Silence settled around me again, heavy but not empty. I rested my palm flat against her grave. “Everything I am now, I carry you with me. Every step I take, I take for both of us.”
I stood up slowly, brushing grass off my clothes. “I have to go now, Sis. But I’ll come back. I promise. And when I do, I’ll have justice for you.”
I took one last look at her name before turning away, my heart heavy but determined.
My driver was already waiting by the car, standing alert as always. He opened the door for me without a word, his eyes scanning the surroundings.
Just as I was about to step in, the sound of an engine roaring too loudly caught my attention.
A Toyota sped into the cemetery, tires screeching as it came to a sudden stop a short distance away. Before I could process what was happening, the passenger window rolled down.
Everything slowed.
I saw the glint of metal.
“Down!” my driver shouted.
We were being shot at.
Gunshots rang out, sharp and deafening. The sound echoed through the cemetery, shattering the peace like glass. I felt my body jerk as my driver grabbed me, pushing me hard toward the car.
Bullets hit the ground nearby, sending dirt flying. My heart slammed violently against my chest, fear exploding through me.
My driver shoved me into the backseat, covering me with his body for a brief second before slamming the door shut. He ran around the car, jumped into the driver’s seat, and the engine roared to life.
Another shot rang out as we sped off, gravel flying behind us.
I ducked low, my hands shaking uncontrollably as the car swerved out of the cemetery. Through the rear window, I saw the Toyota peel off in the opposite direction, disappearing almost as quickly as it had arrived.
My breath came out in short, panicked gasps. My heart felt like it was going to burst out of my chest.
“Are you hurt, ma’am?” my driver asked urgently, glancing at me through the mirror.
I shook my head, unable to speak yet. My throat was tight, my ears ringing.
The silence that followed was louder than the gunshots.
Someone had tried to kill me.
Right after I left my sister’s grave.
My hands curled into fists as the shock slowly turned into something darker, heavier.
This wasn’t a warning.
This was a message.
And whoever sent it knew exactly where to find me.