My Sister, the Serial Killer - oyinkan braithwaite Page 0,41

through the door, words like “contract,” “deal,” “girl.” The doors were thick oak, so I couldn’t hear much else. I joined Ayoola on the stairs and we went to my room.

By the time the sun went down we were out on the balcony, watching the man get into the backseat of his Mercedes and be driven out of our compound. The fear that had been stuck in my throat receded, and I forgot about the incident with the chief man.

FAMILY

Muhtar and I are talking, about the blandness of the food here, the coarseness of the sheets and tall tales of his past students.

There is a knock and Mohammed enters the room, interrupting us. He mumbles a greeting at me, then beams at Muhtar, greeting him in Hausa, to which Muhtar enthusiastically responds. I did not realize they had made each other’s acquaintance. And I have never seen Mohammed smile so…freely, at someone other than the nurses who fight over him. Their barrage of Hausa relegates me to the position of other and, five minutes in, I decide to leave; but before I have a chance to announce my intentions, there is yet another knock on the door.

One of Muhtar’s sons comes in, trailed by a fresh-faced girl. I do not know the names of his children—it hasn’t seemed important. But I can tell this is the older one; he is taller and has a full beard. He is thin like his father; they all are, like reeds in the wind. His eyes fall on me. He is probably wondering what a nurse is doing making herself comfortable at his father’s bedside, tracing the rim of an empty cup with her finger.

Mohammed empties the wastebasket and shuffles out. I stand up.

“Good morning, Dad.”

“Good morning…Korede, you are leaving?”

“You have a guest.” I nod toward his son.

Muhtar snorts and waves his hand. “Sani, this is Korede, the owner of the voice in my dreams. I’m sure you won’t mind her staying.”

The son frowns with displeasure. On closer inspection, he does not look as much like his father as I thought. His eyes are small but wide-set, so that he looks permanently surprised. He gives a stiff nod, and I sit back down.

“Dad, this is Miriam, the girl I want to marry,” he announces. Miriam lowers herself into a tsugunnawa out of respect for the man she hopes will be her father-in-law.

Muhtar narrows his eyes. “What happened to the last one you brought to meet me?”

His son sighs. It is a long dramatic sigh. “It didn’t work out, Dad. You’ve been out of it for so long…” I should have left the room when I had a chance.

“I don’t understand what that means. Hadn’t I already met her parents?”

Miriam is still kneeling, her right palm cupping her left. The two men seem to have forgotten that she is still here. If this is the first time she is hearing of another woman, it does not seem to register. She glances up at me, her eyes empty. She reminds me of Bunmi. Her face is round, and she is all curves and soft flesh. Her skin is even darker than my own—she comes close to the color black that we are all labeled with. I wonder how old she is.

“I have changed my mind about her, Dad.”

“And the money that has been spent?”

“It’s just money. Isn’t my happiness more important?”

“This is the madness you tried to pull while I was sick?”

“Dad, I want to begin the arrangements, and I need you to—”

“Sani, if you think you are getting a dime from me, you are more foolish than I thought. Miriam, your name is Miriam, abi? Get up. I apologize, but I will not sanction this marriage.” Miriam stumbles to her feet and then goes to stand beside Sani.

Sani scowls at me, as though I were somehow to blame for this turn of events. I meet his glare with a look of indifference. A man like him could never ruffle my feathers. But Muhtar catches the exchange.

“Look at me, Sani, not Korede.”

“Why is she even here? This is a family matter!”

The truth is, I am asking myself the same question. Why does Muhtar want me here? We both look to him for an answer, but he seems to be in no hurry to provide one.

“I have said all I intend to say on this matter.”

Sani grabs Miriam’s hand and spins around, dragging her out of the room with him. Muhtar closes his eyes.

“Why did you want