“You may not remember me, but I remembered you every night as I watched our son gasp for air. You never came back. But I cleaned up your mess daily, in life and now, on your floor.”

I folded it and tucked it under his mug in the office.

The next day, I asked to move. I couldn’t stand the sight of him anymore.

Two weeks later, a woman came to my house. She was dressed in white, elegant, with a face similar to Nonso’s, but sweeter.

“Are you Lucía?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“I’m Nonso’s older sister.”

I was speechless.

“He cried when he read your letter. He didn’t know. Our parents hid it. He thought you had an ab0rtion.”

“No. Chidera lived for nine years. He d.ied waiting for his father.”