Yemisi

Two weeks had passed since Alessia’s mother was sentenced to five years in prison, yet normalcy still felt like a distant concept. I lay on my bed, staring blankly at the ceiling, the weight of everything pressing down in the silence.

With Ireti’s parents back in town, she was gone, and I felt the empty space she left keenly. I missed her steady presence.

A soft knock at the door broke my thoughts. Kayode stepped in, his expression a mix of apprehension and urgency.

“Are you going?” he asked, referring to the invitation Mr. Bailey—“Dad,” as he now wanted us to call him—had extended to us. He wanted us over at his house, a chance to finally “bond.” The idea of it was nauseating.

“Look, I get it,” Kayode said, breaking through my thoughts, his tone dry. “After fourteen years, the sudden desire to ‘connect’ is, well... hilarious.”

I gave a humorless smile, but he wasn’t finished. “But from a different perspective—say, Ireti’s—you might uncover something useful for Alessia’s case.”

I considered his words. The investigation into her death seemed to be fading into the background, filed away as a “school error.” The fake records, the secrecy—it all seemed too convenient. But no one else seemed to believe that there was more to the story.

“Fine,” I said finally, the words leaving my mouth with reluctance. “I’ll think about it.”

“Please do,” he said quietly, a rare plea in his voice.

---

The buzzing of my phone jolted me from a restless sleep. Nightmares of flashing lights and accusations faded as I blinked at the screen. It was Kayode.

“Why are you calling at this hour?” I asked, my voice thick with exhaustion.

“Have you decided?” he said, cutting straight to the point. “Dad wants an answer.”

“Seriously, this couldn’t wait until morning?” I muttered, pulling myself up in bed.

“He’s pushing for it,” Kayode said, his tone cautious.

I groaned, the thought of stepping into Mr. Bailey’s world twisting something inside me. “Fine,” I said, though the words tasted bitter. “We’ll go.”

“Good call.” Kayode’s tone shifted, a hint of excitement creeping in. “Operation Snoopy, here we come.”

---

Two days later, Kayode and I stood in the driveway of Mr. Bailey’s mansion, a sprawling edifice that radiated wealth—and a kind of coldness that seemed to repel rather than invite. We were greeted by a housekeeper, with “Dad” noticeably absent.

Once settled in our overly grand “guest wing,” Kayode and I retreated to my room, hatching our plan in hushed tones.

“Tonight’s the night,” he whispered, glancing toward the heavy curtains that shielded us from the house's surveillance.

Tonight, we’d slip into Alessia’s room. I was still the prime suspect in her case, but with no new leads, the investigation had stalled. We were desperate for something—anything—that might bring the truth to light and clear my name.

Navigating the hallways felt like stepping into enemy territory. Finally, we reached her door, our breaths tight with anticipation. With practiced hands, Kayode worked the lock, the quiet click sounding louder than it should have.

Inside, a faint trace of Alessia’s perfume hung in the air, a floral scent now tinged with sadness. Her room was a striking contrast to the sterile decor of the mansion—filled with frills, bright pinks, and glimmers of silver.

But as we searched, the sense of hope began to ebb. Everything seemed perfectly in place, not a single sign of hidden secrets or a double life.

“This is pointless,” I muttered, turning back toward the door, frustration heavy in my voice.

“Wait,” Kayode’s voice was a sharp whisper. He was sifting through a jewel-encrusted box on her dresser. “Look at this.”

He pointed to a small, slightly loose panel on the side of the box. My pulse quickened as I pried it open, fingers grazing a smooth, leather-bound object. I pulled it out, my breath catching as I realized what I was holding.

“A diary?” Kayode murmured, his eyes wide with realization.

I could feel my heart pounding as I stared down at it, this small, worn book. Alessia’s thoughts, her secrets, her last days—everything we’d been searching for could be written on these pages.

In that moment, a quiet resolve settled over me. This wasn’t just a clue; it was a lifeline. We might finally have the answers we needed—the key to finding justice for Alessia and proving my innocence once and for all.

*********
Author's Note
Okay this was better than my previous writing.
I read my dictionary again and learned some new words
P.S: I no read my whole dictionary ooo
Alessia's dairy has been found
Let's hope our Yemisi finds information.
Please don't forget to vote and comment
Love to y'all